From:  "L-Soft list server at Indiana University (1.8d)" <LISTSERV@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
To:    "ARTF@MemoryAlpha.nil"
File:  "LOISCLA-GENERAL-L
LOG9805D"

=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 01:10:44 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         April Young <young.569@OSU.EDU>
Subject:      Re: security issue
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

I would like to remian on the list. Thanks!!!

April
_______________________________________________________________________
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 01:05:35 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         LNg815 <LNg815@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: security issue
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit

I'm a real person, keep me on the list!

Thanks
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 01:26:23 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         DEB0603 <DEB0603@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: security issue
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit

Hi!
I'm a real person-  well, my students don't think so right about now--- but
I
really am.
PLEASE don't remove me from the list!
Deborah Myers (Deb0603@aol.com)
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 01:35:41 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Kathy Brown <kbrown@TOOLCITY.NET>
Subject:      Private responses, please!! [Was: security issue]
In-Reply-To:
<Pine.OSF.3.96.980521130247.26215E-100000@copper.ucs.indiana.edu>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

Farah, lost in all of her spam mail, had a minor brain skip <g> and forgot
to clarify that all of these "security issue" posts should be sent to her
*privately* at her email, which was listed at the bottom of her post:

>Farah Meitzen Chisham
>fchisham@indiana.edu

Please, everyone, there are 300+ people on this list and I, for one, don't
want to get 300 "security issue" messages which I will just have to delete.
I just got back from a 10 day vacation and had 450 emails to sort through
(and I'm on DIGEST for LOISCLA!) -- and having to wade through this stuff
isn't helping me get it all processed!

We all love Farah and think she's doing a bang-up job managing this list.
So tell her -- privately! :)

Thanks,

Kathy

______________________
Kathy Brown
kbrown@toolcity.net
<http://www.toolcity.net/~kbrown/>
KathyB on IRC
______________________
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 00:21:03 -0500
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Brian Wilson <kaleljr@FLASH.NET>
Organization: Flashnet Communications
Subject:      Re: security issue
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Hello, my name is Brian Wilson, and I sometimes pass for a real person.
 Please keep me on this list.
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 08:15:12 +0200
Reply-To:     ossadzoa@esiee.fr
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Antoine Ossadzow <ossadzoa@ESIEE.FR>
Organization: Groupe ESIEE Paris
Subject:      Re: Superman's S
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: multipart/alternative;
              boundary="------------28145F82120325B44B71C07A"

--------------28145F82120325B44B71C07A
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Debby Stark wrote:

> At 07:58 PM 5/18/98 -1000, j-me wrote:
> >Question,
> >
> >I have always wondered what the 'S' on supermans chest actually stood
> >for.
>
> It's a little known fact that the "S" stands for Stanley, a Kryptonian
name
> denoting "works hard, smiles freely, good cook though can eat whatever he
> finds, can be manipulated, please try not to take advantage of the wearer
> because he does eventually catch on and he has easily makes friends who
back
> him up". Kryptonians (wherever they are) tend to name their offspring this
> way to help them out in life: parents psychically foresee what their kids
> will be like and give them fitting names. Neither the Kents nor "Clark"
knew
> this (and it is unknown if the New Kryptonians had the guts or time to
tell
> him) ("Wear that 'S' [pronounced 'hubba-hubba']

funny... I would've never thought that the Marsupilamies were kryptonian
born...

> proudly, Kal!"), but at
> times it seems that some Earthly criminals are well aware of it.
>
> For example, "Zara" means: "perfectionist, persistent, potential ruler
> material, not a "clothes horse" (or Kryptonian equivalent), has no clue
> about men but will eventually get her what she wants so watch out." And
> "Ching"?  Loyal, upstanding, excellent second lieutenant/banana material,
> appears two-faced but that's part of the disguise, stoic knows what he
wants
> and will get it but won't be pushy about it, broods a lot."
>
> However, there is no truth to the rumor that one warning definition about
> "-el" is "loses kids easily."
>
> Debby
> Debby@swcp.com
> who, having clearly worked too many
> overtime hours this week
> (and with too much email to read again),
> nonetheless tries to put in an appearance...

--
 *********************************************************
*    Antoine OSSADZOW     *       ossadzoa@esiee.fr        *
 **********************************************************
* http://www.esiee.fr/~ossadzoa * mail sent the 22 05 1998 *
 **********************************************************
*   Sur kobby : 06 69 25 97 45   *   poupov@hotmail.com    *
 **********************************************************
* A New York City judge ruled that if two women behind     *
* you at the movies insist on discussing the probable      *
* outcome of the film, you have the right to turn around   *
* and blow a Bronx cheer at them. %                        *
 **********************************************************

--------------28145F82120325B44B71C07A
Content-Type: text/html; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

<HTML>
&nbsp;

<P>Debby Stark wrote:
<BLOCKQUOTE TYPE=CITE>At 07:58 PM 5/18/98 -1000, j-me wrote:
<BR>>Question,
<BR>>
<BR>>I have always wondered what the 'S' on supermans chest actually stood
<BR>>for.

<P>It's a little known fact that the "S" stands for Stanley, a Kryptonian
name
<BR>denoting "works hard, smiles freely, good cook though can eat whatever
he
<BR>finds, can be manipulated, please try not to take advantage of the
wearer
<BR>because he does eventually catch on and he has easily makes friends
who back
<BR>him up". Kryptonians (wherever they are) tend to name their offspring
this
<BR>way to help them out in life: parents psychically foresee what their
kids
<BR>will be like and give them fitting names. Neither the Kents nor "Clark"
knew
<BR>this (and it is unknown if the New Kryptonians had the guts or time
to tell
<BR>him) ("Wear that 'S' [pronounced 'hubba-hubba']</BLOCKQUOTE>
funny... I would've never thought that the Marsupilamies were kryptonian
born...&nbsp;
<BLOCKQUOTE TYPE=CITE>proudly, Kal!"), but at
<BR>times it seems that some Earthly criminals are well aware of it.

<P>For example, "Zara" means: "perfectionist, persistent, potential ruler
<BR>material, not a "clothes horse" (or Kryptonian equivalent), has no
clue
<BR>about men but will eventually get her what she wants so watch out."
And
<BR>"Ching"?&nbsp; Loyal, upstanding, excellent second lieutenant/banana
material,
<BR>appears two-faced but that's part of the disguise, stoic knows what
he wants
<BR>and will get it but won't be pushy about it, broods a lot."

<P>However, there is no truth to the rumor that one warning definition
about
<BR>"-el" is "loses kids easily."

<P>Debby
<BR>Debby@swcp.com
<BR>who, having clearly worked too many
<BR>overtime hours this week
<BR>(and with too much email to read again),
<BR>nonetheless tries to put in an appearance...</BLOCKQUOTE>
&nbsp;

<P>--
<BR><TT>&nbsp;*********************************************************</TT>
<BR><TT>*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Antoine OSSADZOW&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
ossadzoa@esiee.fr&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; *</TT>

<BR><TT>&nbsp;**********************************************************</TT>
<BR><TT>* <A HREF="http://www.esiee.fr/~ossadzoa">
http://www.esiee.fr/~ossadzoa</A> * mail sent the 22 05 1998 *</TT>

<BR><TT>&nbsp;**********************************************************</TT>
<BR><TT>*&nbsp;&nbsp; Sur kobby : 06 69 25 97 45&nbsp;&nbsp; *&nbsp;&nbsp;
poupov@hotmail.com&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; *</TT>

<BR><TT>&nbsp;**********************************************************</TT>
<BR><TT>* A New York City judge ruled that if two women
behind&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
*</TT>
<BR><TT>* you at the movies insist on discussing the
probable&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
*</TT>
<BR><TT>* outcome of the film, you have the right to turn around&nbsp;&nbsp;
*</TT>
<BR><TT>* and blow a Bronx cheer at them.
%&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
*</TT>

<BR><TT>&nbsp;**********************************************************</TT>
<BR>&nbsp;</HTML>

--------------28145F82120325B44B71C07A--
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 08:14:39 +0200
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Martin Knutson <knutos@SWIPNET.SE>
Subject:      Re: security issue
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit

Hi thre Farah!
Im as real as you can get!!!  Please keep me on the list!!
Thanks and Bye!!

Farah Chisham skrev:

> It has come to my attention that there may be a slight security problem
> with this discussion group (not to you, but to my account),
>
> To ensure you remain on the list, please email me a short
> message that you are a real person and not an automatic
> subscriber.
>
> Sometimes, I will get a request to join by an automated "spam"
> server and to keep this from happening, Just take a second
> to email me a message that you wish to remain on the list.
>
> Those who do not respond within one week will be taken off the list.
>
> I just don't want unwanted mail in my inbox or any mail going to the list
> like "make-more-money" schemes.  Thanks for your co-operation!
>
> Farah Meitzen Chisham
> fchisham@indiana.edu

=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 16:41:08 +1000
Reply-To:     lizo@ozemail.com.au
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Liz O <lizo@OZEMAIL.COM.AU>
Subject:      Re: security issue
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Hi

Thanks for the email. I definitely want to be kept on the list.

Liz
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 03:26:36 PDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "Star0 ." <starstar0@HOTMAIL.COM>
Subject:      Re: security issue
Content-Type: text/plain

I am real, and yes, please keep me on the list :)

Donna

______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 04:07:29 -0700
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         super chick <supermansundies@MAILEXCITE.COM>
Organization: MailExcite  (http://www.mailexcite.com:80)
Subject:      security issue
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Im a real person.  I sent you a email but everyone else is sending it to the
list....so i thought i better
---
Supesy
http://www.geocities.com/TelevisonCity/Studio/2859/index.html

Free web-based email, Forever, From anywhere!
http://www.mailexcite.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 07:16:33 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Larus2407 <Larus2407@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: security issue--only Farah needs to see the responses!
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 98-05-22 07:09:16 EDT, you write:

<< but everyone else is sending it to the list....so i thought i better >>

PLEASE send responses to Farah at: fchisham@indiana.edu

I don't know if I can stand several hundred more bits of mail in my mailbox
that only Farah needs to see. :(

--Laurie
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 15:54:34 +0300
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Zohar Gilboa <rami_gil@NETVISION.NET.IL>
Subject:      Leaving for a while
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

Hi everyone!

I realised a while ago, that I don't read the list anymore. :-) I guess I
got a bit tired of it, and I also don't have enough time.

Anyway, just wanted to tell you all that I'm leaving and I'll be back in a
few weeks, somewhere inn the summer.

Anyway, bye for now!

Yeah, I know this is almost the same message as I sent to LOISCLA. I really
don't have time. :-)

Still loving L&C and FoLCness,

Zohar Gilboa
rami_gil@netvision.net.il
No quote now - couldn't think of one
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 11:48:52 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         IndiBlue <IndiBlue@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: security issue
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit

Shoot...I gotta delurk.

Hi

Because I was a fool and did a quick delete of many unread messages, I did
not
catch the message re the security issue.  What seems to be the problem and
who
do we e-mail to prove our RL existence?  If this is the place, then I'm here
to tell ya...I am alive!

Thank you.  Thank you. No applause, please.

Layney

Ok...back to lurking.
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 16:20:01 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Mar Brian <MarBrian@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: security issue
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit

Hi Layney-

You have to email chisham@INDIANA.EDU (Farah Meitzen Chisham)
and tell them that your real :}
Hope this helps

Mar-
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 16:39:27 -0400
Reply-To:     datah@epix.net
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Ray Woodruff <datah@EPIX.NET>
Subject:      SoulMates Chronicles
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Hi everyone!

I have a question that I hope you can answer.  I have seen several
references to the SoulMates Chronicles mentioned not only on this list
but also on several web sites.  Could someone please tell me where I can
read them?

Thanks ever so much

Ray <datah@epix.net>
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 17:28:44 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         KampmeyerM <KampmeyerM@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Are we all Secure Now?
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit

I hadn't checked my mail in a few days... but this was a laugh a minute!
Granted, I know some of you are irritated at the security issue thingy, but
it
was a treat after a hectic work week to read of people pursuading us that
they
are indeed "REAL". Can't wait to read more testimonials...

Marie
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 17:50:01 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         IndiBlue <IndiBlue@AOL.COM>
Subject:      FoLC
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit

Looking over all of the many testimonials of REAL FoLCS and seeing their
die-
hard allegiance to LC, I was wondering...what brought you good (i assume)
people (i assume again) to the wonderful world of LC?  And why (as my family
asks me so very often) are you so absolutely head over heals with the show
and
its characters?

I, myself, saw the show while it was on ABC and fell first for the deep
dimples of Dean Cain.  Still, I only watched occassionally.  I did not
become
a bonafide FoLC until TNT had the good sense to rerun LC.  It was then that
I,
literally, dropped everything one day and flew (without a cape) to my local
electronics store and bought a VCR for the sole purpose of taping our
beloved
characters in action.

Seeing everyone type in dismay to keep them on the list, I was wondering
what
other FoLC tales might be. Hmmm...

Layney
indiblue@aol.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 16:54:53 -0500
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Farah Chisham <fchisham@INDIANA.EDU>
Subject:      sorry :)
In-Reply-To:  <998e2f81.35659e65@aol.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII

I am so sorry and didn't mean to cause any panik.
This is a reasonably small list and I just wanted
to get rid of the the "junk" people that send me
trash through the list (I'ts hard to explain).
THanks for all the feed back@
luv, farah

> Shoot...I gotta delurk.
> Because I was a fool and did a quick delete of many unread messages, I did
not
> catch the message re the security issue.  What seems to be the problem and
who
> do we e-mail to prove our RL existence?  If this is the place, then I'm
here
> to tell ya...I am alive!
Farah Meitzen Chisham
fchisham@indiana.edu
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 18:05:00 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Cricket071 <Cricket071@AOL.COM>
Subject:      subscribe and unsubscribe
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit

Hi Everyone,

I lost how to subscribe and unsubscribe to this list.  Would someone please
e-
mail me privately how to do so?  I want to unsubscribe from this address and
subscribe from another one.

Thank you in advance for your help.

Cricket071@aol.com  (Christine)
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 23:29:34 +0100
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Angee Chaudhry <angee.chaudhry@WOOLACOMBE3.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject:      Re: Virus warning!!!
Comments: To: shore@maui.net
In-Reply-To:  <355F40C1.4136C853@maui.net>
MIME-Version: 1.0

In message <355F40C1.4136C853@maui.net>, Jamee Jones <shore@MAUI.NET>
writes
>Hi all!
>
>Below is a virus warning I recieved a couple of days ago from a friend.
>I don't know if it is okay to send this to the list, but since I have
>sent it out to all my email pals already 2 of them have thanked me up
>one side and down the other because they had the exact emails warned
>about in their box! So I'd feel bad if I didn't tell all of you too and
>something happened! :-(
>
>take care,
>j-me
>
>
>VIRUS WARNING
>
>MEMORANDUM
>DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION
>SUBJECT:  ALERT FOR LAHAINA INTERMEDIATE
>
>If you recieve an e-mail titles"WIN A HOLIDAY" DO NOT I REPEAT DO NOT
>OPEN IT.
>It will erase everything on your hard drive.  Forward this letter out to
>as
>may people as you can.  This is a new, very malicious virus and not many
>
>people know about it.  This information was announced yesterday morning
>from
>microsoft; Also, do not open or even look at any mail that says
>"RETURNED or
>UNABLE TO DELIVER."  This virus will attach itself to your computer
>components
>and render them useless.  Immediately delete any mail items that say
>this.
>AOL stated:  "This is a very dangerous virus and that there is NO
>REPEAT  NO
>REMEDY for it at this time.

THANX FOR THE WARNING JAMEE,

THERE'S NOTHING WORSE THAN GETTING A VIRUS - I'VE HAD TOO MANY ALREADY
...... SO I WILL THANK YOU UP ONE SIDE AND DOWN THE OTHER AS WELL .....
THANKS AGAIN,

ANGEE CHAUDHRY

-- THAN
Angee Chaudhry
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 21:01:06 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Lansbury 1 <Lansbury1@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: security issue
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit

Hi,

I am a real live person.

Annie Lansbury :)

Lansbury1@aol.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 21:46:25 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         Margaret Brignell <brignell@CAPITALNET.COM>
Subject:      New Fanfic:  Only You:  Promise -- Part 1 of 10
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This is the second of a series of fanfics that came out of an idea
by Laurie F.  She liked my Pre-Metropolis Clark stories (The
Rules, The Long Road, and The One) and thought this set would also
make a good story.

In order to fully understand this story, you need to read "Only
You:  If Only" if you have not already done so:)  It might also
help to have seen the episode "Tempus, Anyone?"

I acknowledge that I am just borrowing the characters created for
the television show  "Lois and Clark:  The New Adventures of
Superman."  However, the story and additional characters came from
the brain of myself and the people who are kind enough to proof my
work:)  It should be noted that in this story too, the British
spelling prevails:)

I would like to thank my proofers, Laurie F., Peace, Debby S.,
Lynda L. and Lauren W. for their input and support. Thanks too,
for the discussion on the fanfic list about career options:)

Words surrounded by * are emphasized.

*****************************************************************
Previously in "Only You" Clark lost his parents at age ten and
bounced around a variety of foster homes.  Lana Lang knows the
secret of his spaceship origins and they have become close.  When
we last saw Clark he had just discovered a new skill.  He was
unsure whether or not he should tell Lana this latest development.

The saga continues:

*****************************************************************
Only You:  Promise
by Margaret Brignell     February 1998  brignell@capitalnet.com
*****************************************************************

Smallville, Kansas -- June 1984
*******************************

"You can....What?!"

"F-f-fly...."

Clark swallowed nervously to try to stop his stuttering.  This was
going even worse than he had thought it would on his flight back
>from the Grand Canyon.

During that flight he had come to the decision that he *had* to
tell Lana about this amazing new skill he had developed.  So,
after landing in a copse of trees just outside of town, he walked
to his current foster home and phoned Lana the minute he got in.
He didn't want to delay in following through with his decision, he
might not have the courage later on.  Besides, if he waited for
Lana to discover it on her own...no, he couldn't do that, it would
be too cruel.  Lana would feel betrayed if he didn't tell her
right away.

They agreed to meet in Mr. Irig's old barn just north of town, on
the southern edge of the Irig farm.  Clark had chosen it because
it was one place that had pleasant memories for the both of them.

However, despite the fact that he had told her as soon as he
could, she was standing in front of him, arms akimbo, and not
pleased...not pleased at all!  Clark wished the earth would just
swallow up his eighteen year-old body.   He'd avoided the pitfall
of not telling her soon enough, but she seemed just as upset about
the news he *was* telling her.  He repeated, "I c-can fly. It-it's
*wonderful*!"

"Wonderful?"  Lana stared at him. "Clark, do you *realize* what
this means?"  When he shrugged, she continued, "If anyone *sees*
you doing *that*, you'll be locked up and dissected like a frog!
You can't *do* it, *ever*.  It's too *dangerous*!"

Clark was confused.  He had been *sure* the idea of them not being
separated in September, when they both went to different colleges
thousands of miles apart, would please her.  What was the problem?

"B-but, Lana.  We'll be able to see each other whenever we want!
I thought that would make you happy."

"Clark, it would be wonderful, if we could."  Lana's stance
relaxed as she stepped forward, and brushing her hands across his
chest, she then wrapped her arms around his neck.  She said
softly, "But, we can't take that chance.  What if someone saw you?
I don't want them taking you away and locking you up.  Please,
Clark, promise me you won't ever fly again.  Please?"

Clark saw tears in her lashes.  She was trembling.  All the fears
that the two of them had discussed over the last eight years
whirled through Clark's mind.  He knew she was truly afraid for
him...for them.  He wished he could promise not to fly, but he
couldn't.

"I c-can't.  I can't j-just s-stop."

Clark swallowed.  He *had* to stop stuttering whenever he was
nervous.  It made him seem so indecisive.  He wasn't sure why he'd
developed this habit over the last year, but he wished it would
just *stop*.  The key thing right now was to help Lana understand
that this new skill was just another addition to the repertoire
she already knew about, like his heat vision and special hearing.
He couldn't just *stop*.

"It's a normal part of me!  Like running is for you."

"Yes, Clark.  But I don't *have* to run. I can walk...and so can
you. So promise me...please!"  She was looking into his eyes with
the pleading expression that he found so hard to resist.  But not
this time.  Although he had only just discovered he could fly
today, he knew--deep down-- that *this* was a fundamental part of
who he was.

He slowly loosened her hold on his neck and pushed her hands away
>from him.  "I c-can't Lana.  I just can't!"

"Clark!"  Lana had her hands on her hips again.  "Listen to me,
you *have* to!  It's the only way we can be sure you'll be safe."

Clark backed away from her.  He couldn't *not* fly.   He couldn't
promise not to.  It was impossible!

"I c-can't.  I-I'm s-sorry!"  He ran from her, out of the barn,
and as soon as he saw clear sky he jumped, pushing the mental
button that said "fly" and flew as fast as he could away from
Smallville.  One part of his mind heard Lana gasp as he took off,
but he squelched the memory of that and flew as far and as fast as
he could to get away from his latest problem.

His mind was in turmoil.  He *had* to fly, he just *had* to.  How
could he make Lana understand that?  The problem kept buzzing
around inside his head, until he finally realized that he was
somewhere in the mountains.  He had no idea which mountains.  They
all looked the same from this altitude.

He lost altitude slowly, until he saw a tumultuous river flowing
rapidly between two cliffs.  If he followed the river downstream,
he should eventually find civilization and be able to figure out
where he was.  He glided over the course of the river, admiring
the view.  If only Lana could see things from this perspective.

He knew he was on the right track when he saw a road running
parallel to the river.

Suddenly, he noticed an upside-down kayak was bouncing around in
the white water below a small waterfall.  Clark searched to find
the kayaker who must have been in the now empty craft.  At last,
he saw a man lying face-down on a rock in the middle of the rapids
just below the falls.  As he swooped down the turmoil of the
rapids sounded louder and louder.  The pine trees along the tip of
the shoreline cliffs loomed larger in his peripheral vision as he
dropped to stand beside the still figure on the rock.

"Are you okay?"   Clark could see the man was in pain.  There was
a broken paddle trapped in a crevice in the rock.  The man's life
vest and helmet were in place, but there was a large rip in his
yellow paddle jacket.

The trim, athletic-looking man groaned.  "Who?...How? How did you
get here?"

Clark didn't answer.  What could he say?  Clark noted that the man
was lying awkwardly and scanned his body.

"Your leg is broken.  It needs setting, or it might tear some of
your muscle."  Clark held the man by the foot, and watching the
process with his x-ray vision, gently pulled on the leg, snapping
the broken bone back into place.  The man passed out.

Clark was dismayed that he had caused the man so much pain, but on
the other hand, it would make it a lot easier for him to get the
man to dry land, without any awkward questions.  Clark removed the
man's life jacket and wrapped it around the injured leg as a
temporary splint, using the tie straps on the jacket to keep it in
place.

He picked up the man and flew him to the river bank nearest the
highway he had noticed from the air.  He lay the man at the side
of the road, so that anyone driving along would see him lying
there.  Clark hid behind some trees as soon as he heard a truck
coming down the mountain road.  There was a squeal of brakes and
two men jumped out of the truck.

"Geezus, what happened to this guy?  He's soaking wet, in a drybib
and paddle jacket--and he's got his life jacket wrapped around his
left leg!"

"Maybe he crawled up from the river after having an accident?"
The voice sounded sceptical.

"Rory, there's twenty-foot cliffs alongside the river. A guy in
this condition wouldn't be able to crawl up a cliff!"

Clark cringed.  He hadn't thought of how this would be explained
after the fact.  He had just been concerned about getting the man
some help and hadn't known where that would be.

The injured man groaned.

"Hey, man, are you okay?"  Rory asked.

The man roused himself to respond to the question.  "I...I don't
know. My leg is broken...I think.  He said it was, anyway."

"Who said it was?"

"The guy who set it.  Tall, dark-haired guy--he just appeared out
of nowhere."  The man groaned.

"Where did you fall?"

"Bill, stop interrogating the man.  We gotta get him to the
hospital."  Rory signalled Bill to hold the man's other side as
they lifted him into the cab of the truck.

"I-I missed the obvious signs for the waterfall and fell over it."
The man groaned in pain.  "I remember a big rock.  Then a man."

Rory obviously recognized the site of the man's accident because
he said, "Dead Man's Rock!  There couldn't have been no man.  It's
*impossible* for anyone to get to Dead Man's Rock from here.
Umpteen people have tried."

"There *was* a man."

"Man?  No, he must have been some kind of angel if he got you off
of Dead Man's Rock!"  Clark ducked behind a tree as the men
appeared to be scanning the nearby woods for signs of this
"angel."

Bill slammed the passenger door.  Rory ran around the front of the
truck, and pulling the driver's seat forward, squeezed into the
back of the truck cab.  Bill jumped into the driver's seat,
slammed the door behind him, started the engine and drove off
downhill.

Clark breathed a sigh of relief.  The men were too concerned to
look for the "angel" right now, but they would be looking for him
eventually.  It was really embarrassing being compared to an
angel.  He had only been trying to help, but *now* there were
people looking for someone with unearthly powers.  Lana was right.
He *had* to be more careful!

Lana!  He had ignored her warnings and run away from her, rather
than face facts.  He had to go back and try to make amends with
Lana for treating her like that.

                    *****

******************************
Margaret Brignell
brignell@capitalnet.com
Ottawa, Canada
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
My fanfic now available at:
http://www.capitalnet.com/~brignell/
******************************
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 21:46:28 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         Margaret Brignell <brignell@CAPITALNET.COM>
Subject:      New Fanfic:  Only You:  Promise -- Part 2 of 10
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Metropolis, New Troy -- June 1984
*********************************

Lois Lane was exultant!  She gazed in pride at the acceptance
letter she had received from *the* most prestigious journalism
school in Metropolis...in the *world* if it came to that.  They
wanted *her*--Lois Lane--to become a student there in September.
Not just *any* student, but as a Kerth scholar.  At seventeen, the
*youngest* Kerth scholar in the history of the University of
Metropolis Journalism School.  Daddy would be *so* proud!

Lois had applied to be a Kerth scholar but had not really thought
she would be eligible.  After all, only the brightest and the best
were enrolled as Kerth scholars.  The scholarship funds were not
huge, but would cover tuition, and basic textbook and lab fees.

Daddy was willing to pay her tuition fees, whether or not she won
the scholarship.  Mom, on the other hand...,  Lois sighed and
folded the letter, carefully inserting it back in its envelope.
Mom was not enthusiastic about Lois' career choice.  Then again,
Mom was never very enthusiastic about anything...except maybe the
idea that her daughters would marry rich and powerful men.

Sometimes Lois wondered if it wouldn't have been better if her
mother and father had just split up.  They didn't seem happy and
both she and Lucy suspected their parents were staying together
"for the children."   Lois was determined to *never* have *that*
kind of relationship with a man.

She heard the front door open and close, and then the sounds her
father normally made as he put down his medical kit and took off
his coat.  She snatched up the U. of Metropolis envelope and ran
downstairs to meet him.

"Daddy!  Guess what!"  She ran into his arms and kissed his cheek.

"What,  Princess?"

"I'm accepted!  I'm a *Kerth* scholar!  Isn't that *wonderful*?"
Lois could hardly contain her excitement.

Dr. Lane's face brightened into a semblance of a smile.  "That
*is* wonderful. Princess."

Lois wondered what was wrong.  He should be more enthusiastic than
this.

"Daddy?  Is something wrong?"

"Wrong?  No, nothing is wrong."  Her father turned away from her
to hang his coat in the closet.

Lois had that helpless feeling she'd been feeling since early
childhood when she had realized that her parents didn't love each
other and that they probably didn't love *her*, either.  Whatever
support they gave her was primarily for show...so they would
appear to be the perfect parents to acquaintances and strangers.
They didn't have close friends, and as for their relatives...well,
the less said the better.  Some days she wondered if she wouldn't
have been better off as an orphan.

After hanging up his coat, her father turned back to face
her...looking over her head to avoid looking her in the eye as he
said, "Princess, I *am* proud of you.  It's difficult to get that
kind of award.  It's just that I was hoping you'd follow me into
one of the health care professions."   He moved into the living
room and sat down, rather heavily, on the sofa.  "But, I'll
support you in whatever career you choose.  You know that."  He
picked up the newspaper and started leafing through it from back
to front.

Lois felt lost.  She had been *so* sure Daddy would be as
enthusiastic about this as she was.  But, he was giving her the
same kind of speech she got from her Mom.   Slowly an insidious
thought crept into her mind.  Mom had been here when the mail
arrived before Lois got home.  Maybe Mom had realized what a
letter from the Journalism School at the University of Metropolis
meant, phoned Dad and told him the news and had told him she
didn't want him encouraging his daughter into *that* kind of
career.  It wasn't respectable...and how did he expect his
daughter to marry well if she was constantly traipsing all over
the city asking awkward questions?   Lois was ready to spit at
just the very idea of her mother's interference.  But, the more
she thought about it the more it seemed possible.

She was mad but she couldn't prove anything.  They would never
admit it.  She sighed, said "Thank you, Daddy."  Then, turning
around, slowly walked upstairs and carefully put the letter in her
'memory' box.

She had kept her 'memory' box ever since the time that Timmy Neer
had given her that special pebble he'd picked up on a beach in
Florida while he was on vacation...a shiny green pebble, almost
like an emerald, only round and smooth.    The 'memory' box was a
memory in and of itself.  It was about the size and shape of a
shoe box, but made out of thin cedar plywood.  The top slid out
like an old-fashioned pencil box.  It had originally contained the
black-and-white teddy bear her Uncle Phil had sent to her for her
third birthday while he was away on one of his trips in foreign
lands.  She loved the box almost as much as she had loved the
bear.  The box smelled so nice.  As a result she had kept the box
safe in the back of her closet until she discovered the *true*
purpose for the box when she was six years old and placed that
bright green pebble into it.  She later realized that when she'd
called it her 'memory' box she had really meant 'memento,' but her
original name for it had stuck and she still thought of it that
way over ten years later.

After getting Timmy's pebble, she had put any new item that meant
something special to her into her 'memory' box. She wasn't sure
why.  Maybe so, sometime in the future, she'd have something to
show grandchildren...although she couldn't really visualize being
married and having children.  It sounded so...suburban...so like
her parents.  Lois knew...had known since she was small...that she
was *not* cut out to live like that.  She wanted to live in the
heart of the city.  She wanted to be where the action was.

Unfortunately, her parents were adamant that the only safe place
to bring up children was in the suburbs.  So the Lanes had lived
in the suburbs all of Lois' life.  However, working at her summer
job downtown had confirmed Lois' impression that she wanted to
live in the city itself.  She *knew* that the city was the right
place for her, it filled some kind of void in her soul.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a phone call from Steve Farber
asking her out for a soda and movie that evening.  She agreed.  It
would be better than sitting at home listening to Mom complain
about her career choice and Daddy complying with Mom's every word
to keep the peace...between themselves, not with her.

She changed into her new jeans and Calvin Klein T with the large,
monogrammed logo in gold paint splashed across the front, and ran
down to the kitchen.  Mom was pleased that she had a date with
that "nice Steve boy." Translated, this meant that Mom approved of
Steve's parents and thought them sufficiently wealthy and powerful
to be acceptable as potential in-laws.  Lois rolled her eyes.  She
wasn't going out with Steve's parents, for crying out loud, she
was going out with Steve!

                         *****

Just as the Lanes finished dinner, she heard Steve honk the car
horn, ran out of the house and hopped into his sporty car.  They
went to see "The Terminator" because Steve wanted to.
Afterwards, they drove out to the secluded park at the end of
Devil's Point to look at the view--another of Steve's
"assumptions" about what she wanted.  Lois was getting a little
tired of his assumptions about her and what she would want to do.

She and Steve had been dating off and on for the last few months.
At first Steve's dates had been fun and he seemed genuinely
interested in her and her plans for a career in journalism.
However, lately she had the impression that his interest in her
plans was artificial and he lived for the here and now, rather
than the future.

When he had called earlier she had jumped at the chance to escape
the problems she was having at home, completely disregarding the
fact that she had begun to find Steve a tad boring to be with.
His choice of movie tonight had confirmed that their interests
were completely different.  Now they were at Devil's Point, the
local hangout for necking couples.  However, tonight there were no
other cars in sight.  She knew she should have insisted that they
just go back to her place.  She was now so peeved at Steve for
making yet another assumption about her that whatever interest she
might ever have had in him was *gone*.

While she was thinking about how to tell Steve she never wanted to
see him again, he was using a yawn as an excuse to put his arm
around her shoulder.  Lois was so busy trying to work out how to
tell Steve they were through, that she didn't notice where Steve
was heading until he was starting to grope her in places she
hadn't been touched by anyone but her doctor or her Mom, ever.
She wasn't ready for this!  He roughly pulled her towards him and
started to straddle her.  As she realized what he was trying to
do, her brain froze for a few seconds.

She had not been in the mood for necking and was *definitely* not
in the mood for what Steve obviously had in mind.  This could
*not* be happening.  It couldn't!  She struggled without any
perceptible success.  She finally kicked her way free, and
wrenching the door handle open behind her, grabbed her purse and
fell out of the car onto the grassy area where they were parked.

"Lois.  Come on!  You know you *want* it!"

Lois rolled over and stood up, tucking her t-shirt back into her
jeans.  She glowered at him.  "Of all the self-centred,
egocentric, pigheaded, obtuse, narcissistic, self-absorbed,
idiotic...."  She ran out of adjectives.  Turning on her heel she
started to stalk off in the direction of the highway back to
Metropolis.

She heard scrambling sounds and the next thing she knew Steve had
her in a tight hold from behind.  "Now, Lois, stop being difficult
and...Oof!"

Lois had managed to wiggle enough space to turn so that she could
knee him where it hurt.  She spun out of his loosened arms and
gave him a kick in the solar plexus; it knocked the air out of
him.  Those martial arts classes she had insisted on, and Mom had
finally capitulated into letting her take, were certainly coming
in handy now.

She picked up her purse, which she had dropped during that last
kick, and slipped the strap on her shoulder.  She again started
off in the direction of the highway, this time without any
interference from Steve.

Once she got to the highway she realized she was way too far out
of town to try to walk to the nearest Metro station.  She stuck
out her thumb.   No-one stopped.  Nobody even slowed down.  Lois
sighed.  Ever since the President and Vice-President of the United
States had been assassinated by an as yet unidentified
perpetrator, two years ago, people were so wary.  It was as if
their faith in everything and everybody had been shattered.

She heard the sound of a motor coming from the point.  Steve!  Oh,
shoot, she couldn't let him find her here.  She looked around her.
There was a nice grouping of large trees just twenty feet to the
right.  She sprinted to the nearest tree and crouched behind it so
that anyone on the highway would not be able to see her.  She
heard Steve's car *slowly* turn onto the highway and *slowly*
drive past the grove of trees she was hiding in.  She braved a
quick peek and saw him peering into the bushes on the other side
of the road.  She ducked back behind the tree, almost afraid to
breathe.   Then she heard the car continue down the highway, and
soon she wasn't able to hear the engine at all.

She waited a few minutes until she was pretty sure that Steve
wasn't going to turn back, then went out the highway and stuck out
her thumb again when a few cars appeared around the curve to the
left.  No one stopped this time either.

After about ten minutes she came to the conclusion that she wasn't
going to have any choice but to walk to the nearest subway station
or try to find a phone on the way.  Just then a car actually
slowed and stopped.

The driver leaned over and rolled down the passenger window.

"Lois?  What on earth are you doing way out here?  You could get
into trouble!"

"Oh, Mr. White.  Thank you so much for stopping.  Could you give
me a ride to the nearest Metro station?  I need to get home."

Mr. White opened the passenger door and waved her in.  As he
started the engine again, he asked, "What happened to your ride
out here?"

Lois blushed.  "Well, there was this guy..."

"...and he thought you would be more amenable to his charms if he
'ran out of gas'?"  Mr. White picked up speed as he headed back
towards Metropolis.

"Yeah.  You could say that."

"I take it he's licking his wounds as we speak."

Lois swallowed and just nodded.

Mr. White took this as an answer and turned his attention back to
the road.

"So, Lois, will we be seeing you back at the Planet this year?"

"Definitely!"  Lois' mood brightened considerably.  She had worked
at the Planet last summer in the mail room, but *this* year she
had managed to get a job as a personal assistant (formally known
as "copy boy") in one of the newsrooms.  It wasn't Mr. White's
section, he handled the *real* investigative news, but it was a
step closer to becoming a journalist.  "Mr. Whitney says I'll be
working as a personal assistant to Catherine Grant in the
Entertainment News unit."

"Cat Grant is one of the best--particularly, for nosing out dark
secrets.  Especially when people don't want to have their secrets
revealed."

Lois grinned at this assessment.  Working in the mail room had its
benefits, like meeting all the reporters and editors at the
Planet.  So she knew by reputation which ones were good and which
were not so good.  "I know.  That's why I'm looking forward to
working with her.  I think I can learn a lot from her."

"You bet your...er...yes, you will."

"I found out today that I've won a Kerth Scholarship to Metro
Journalism."  Lois said tentatively, almost afraid that he would
react the same way her father had and downplay her news.

"Well,  I'll be!  Isn't that wonderful!"  Mr. White slapped the
steering wheel and sounded *really* pleased.  "They don't give
those out to just anybody.  You've got promise, young lady.  You
just work hard at your studies and you'll do just fine."

"I will."  Lois felt happy.  Finally, someone saw her achievement
for what it was.

"Now, whereabouts do you live?"

"Mr. White!  You don't have to drive me all the way home, I can
take the subway."

"And take the chance of losing one of the most promising news
hounds in the business?  Not a chance."   Mr. White grinned at
her.

She smiled, delighted at his support of her career choice and gave
him the directions to her home in Harmony Heights.  Within minutes
Mr. White drew up in front of Lois' house.

She opened the passenger door, and after thanking him profusely
walked up the front walk to the white, clapboard, two-storey house
she had lived in all her life.  As she got to the door she waved
at Mr. White to let him know she was going to be okay and watched
him drive away.

The door was wrenched open from within.  Her mother was standing
in the front hall, drink in hand, looking not at all pleased.

"Lois!  What on earth do you think you're doing?  I just got a
call from Steve's mother saying you *attacked* him for no reason.
He's got bruises where you kicked him.  Explain yourself, young
lady..."  Her mother looked off in the direction of the receding
car. "...and who drove you home?"

"What! *Mom*!  Steve tried to *rape* me!  I did what I had to and
got away.  I hitched a ride home."

"Hitched a ride!  Are you crazy!  You know there are all kinds of
weirdos out there!  Why couldn't you just let Steve drive you
home?"

Lois inhaled in a vain attempt to control her temper.  "Mom!  I
told you!  Steve tried to *rape* me...there is no way on this
earth that I am going to get in the same car as him again!  And
everyone out there thought *I* was one of those weirdos, so the
only person who would stop was someone I knew."

"Who?"

"Mr. White, he works at the Planet.  He drove me home so he would
know I was okay."

"Lois, how could you!?  What am I going to say to Steve's mother?
She's so annoyed with your behaviour...she'll never forgive us!"

"Mom!  I don't *care* what Mrs. Farber thinks!   Her son tried to
rape me and I defended myself...end of story.  I'm going to take a
shower and go to bed.  Good night!"   Lois stomped past her mother
and up the stairs.

Parents!

                    *****

******************************
Margaret Brignell
brignell@capitalnet.com
Ottawa, Canada
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
My fanfic now available at:
http://www.capitalnet.com/~brignell/
******************************
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 21:46:31 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         Margaret Brignell <brignell@CAPITALNET.COM>
Subject:      New Fanfic:  Only You:  Promise -- Part 3 of 10
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Smallville, Kansas -- June 1984
*******************************

Clark floated down into the copse of trees behind the old Irig
barn.  He walked home and phoned Lana.

"Lana, I'm sorry I took off like that.  You were right.  Can we
talk?"

She paused for a few seconds then said, "Okay.  I'll pick you up
in ten minutes."

Lana's father had given her a small sports car as her graduation
present.  She pulled up in front of Clark's current home in the
time allotted.   As he got into the car's passenger seat, Clark's
conscience twinged.  He could see she had been crying.

They drove in silence until they got to their favourite remote
spot, just past Siegel Knoll.

"Are you okay?"

"Clark, you had me *so* scared.  I thought you weren't going to
come ba-a-ck!"

Lana's voice cracked.  Clark put his arm around her and gave her a
gentle hug.

"What made you think I wouldn't come back?"

Lana didn't reply.  Tears coursed down her cheeks and she appeared
to be struggling for control.  Clark tightened his hug and stroked
her hair.  Eventually Lana seemed to gain some control over her
emotions, pulled a tissue out of her purse, wiped the tears from
her cheeks and blew her nose.

"I guess because you can f-f-fly.  I thought you wouldn't want me
any more."

"But, I did come back.  I'm sorry I upset you.  Honest."  Clark
brushed her hair away from her face.  "I guess I find this all so
overwhelming, and you're the *only* person I can talk it over
with."  He caressed her tear-stained cheek, brushing away tear she
had missed, with his thumb.  "I wish I didn't have to put this
burden on you too."

Lana sniffed quietly.  "It's okay, Clark.  I guess I just want
things to be the way they were.  This...this *flying* thing.  It's
scary."

"I know."  He stroked her hair.

"It makes it so much easier for people to see you're *different*.
I mean with the Special hearing and seeing, only *you* know about
that.  But *flying*...if anyone saw you do that...they'd come and
t-t-take you aw-w-way!"  Tears flowed down Lana's cheeks again.

Clark gently wiped the tears away.  "Lana.  I know I have to be
careful with this flying thing.  Even if no-one sees me, it still
could be hard to explain."

Clark saw a slow dawning of realization cross Lana's face.  "It
was *you*!"  Lana pulled away from him and stared into his eyes.
"On the news!  There was a guy in Colorado who was saved from
drowning by 'an angel.'  The doctors put it down to the concussion
he got when he fell out of his kayak...but, they still couldn't
explain how the man got from the middle of the river to the side
of the road and how his broken leg had been set.  It was *you*,
wasn't it?"

Clark nodded.   "No one saw me.  But when the men who stopped to
help the injured man started wondering about how he got
there...that's when I knew you were right.  I can't fly...but...I
*have* to fly--it's a part of me.  I don't know what to do."

"You can't just forget all about it?"

"No, it's like breathing.  It's just *there*.  I think I could
train to become more expert at it...sort of like a runner trains
to breathe more efficiently...but I can't *not* do it."

"Then *don't* become more efficient at it.  Using it is
dangerous!"

"I know, but if I hadn't been there today that man would have
*drowned*.  I saved his life.  I can't *not* help."

"Clark...one man can't do everything...no matter what powers he
has.  There are things that you don't have control over that make
it impossible.  Promise me you'll not fly.  Promise me you'll be
*careful*."  Lana had that pleading look on her face again.

"I promise to be careful."

Lana waited for the other half of the promise.  "And...the
flying?"

"Lana, I can't promise *that*!  It's impossible."   Clark covered
his face with his hands and rested his elbows on his knees.  "I
*have* to fly.  You *have* to understand."

Lana stroked his hair and gently pulled his hands away from his
face.  "It's okay, Clark.  I know you'll try really hard to be
careful.  Just promise me you'll only fly when no one can see you.
Promise me."

"I promise."

Lana leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, then the corner of
his mouth and worked her way up with tiny kisses to his earlobe.
Breathing softly into his ear she whispered, "Make love to me,
Clark."

She seemed to have forgiven and accepted this new change in him.
How could he deny her anything?

                    *****

A month later, Lana went away for a week with her parents.  They
were visiting Metropolis to find Lana a small apartment to live in
while she was attending the Metropolis Polytechnic Journalism
School.

Meanwhile, Clark was pondering his own housing problems.  Back in
February, when he officially turned eighteen, Ms. Chalmers had
informed him that once he graduated from high school he would no
longer be a ward of the County.  He talked to Dad's lawyer about
taking over the farm.  However, Mr. Lawson had informed him that,
under the stipulation in the Kents' will, he couldn't inherit the
Kent farm until he was 21 years old.  Clark understood that his
parents had expected to be there until he finished school, and
hadn't realized how this condition would affect him if they
couldn't be there.

He had avoided the implication that he would be homeless when he
graduated from high school.  Now his problem was getting more
critical.  Fortunately, for the period after high school, his
final foster parents had kindly offered to have him stay on as a
boarder for the balance of the summer.   They only asked that he
help out with the chores and contribute to the food bills.  This
would tide him over until September.  After that they were going
to retire to a warmer climate.  As a result, come September he
would be without any permanent residence.

Last Friday, Clark had received his registration package from the
University of Kansas at Lawrence.  Part of the process was to
apply for accommodation.  He didn't know what to do.  He was
pretty sure he still floated in his sleep, which would be kind of
hard to hide from any roommate(s); but he didn't have enough funds
to get a private room.  He *had* to have a place to sleep alone!

Last fall he had thought he would be able to live with his foster
parents and commute to Lawrence; but, when he received the news
about his change of status with the county, that hope was
shattered.  He had been trying to come up with a solution to this
problem for the past five months, without success.

During his conversation with Mr. Lawson, he had asked if he could
get an advance on his inheritance for educational purposes.  Mr.
Lawson told him that he could get some funds--for tuition and
books--but not for accommodation.  Since Clark already had a
scholarship he'd won earlier in the spring covering tuition, he
was only able to get advance funding for books.  It would help,
but it wouldn't resolve his accommodation problem.  The money he
would make working for Mr. Kratz at the Smallville Press this
summer would barely cover the cost of the cheapest accommodation
available--sharing with nine other people.  Not having to pay for
books might mean he would be able to get fewer room-mates, but it
would not get him a private room.  He *had* to find another
solution.

                    *****

Clark decided his best way of finding another solution was to pay
a visit to the Lawrence campus and see if there were other
alternatives he could take advantage of.  Tuesday he borrowed his
foster parent's second car and drove to Lawrence.

By ten o'clock Clark was walking up Jayhawk Boulevard from the
Union building, gazing at the Collegiate Gothic and Romanesque
Style buildings gracing both sides of the street.  This was such a
beautiful campus.  He sat on a bench near Watson Library and
watched some squirrels cavort along the tree-lined boulevard.
After a few minutes, he got up and walked slowly through the
campus towards the admin office for Journalism, savouring the
sounds and sights around him.  He was glad he was coming here to
journalism school.

He found Stauffer-Flint Hall and stood in front of the newly
renovated building for a few minutes.  This was where he would be
taking his journalism classes.  Clark could hardly wait!

As he entered the building, to find the Journalism School office
to pick up paperwork needed before heading over the Registrar's
office, a  campanile sounded the quarter of the hour.  He was
really looking forward to hearing that melodic sound on a regular
basis in September.

Once he had his official acceptance papers in hand, it took Clark
a few minutes to find the registrar's office in Strong Hall,
across the street.  Upon entering the Registrar's Office, he
discovered he wasn't the only one in search of accommodation.
The staff were looking a little harried at all the extra workload
generated by the distribution of the registration kits.

When it came time for him to make his request, he'd come up with
what he thought was a good excuse for needing private
accommodation.  He was a light sleeper (he tried to keep in mind
that floating was a form of lightness, so he didn't feel like he
was telling a lie) and he was afraid he wouldn't get any sleep if
he had to share sleeping quarters (mostly because he'd be afraid
to fall asleep in the presence of others).  He had no problem with
sharing other facilities...but he needed to be able to *sleep*
alone.

The woman who was helping him was sympathetic but reiterated that
with his budget he would have to share his sleeping quarters with
at least three others.

Clark swallowed.  Maybe he'd have to withdraw his application
until he could afford better accommodation. "That's the only
option I have?"

"Well, if you're willing to share with someone who is handicapped,
and help them as needed, you could get a room for only the two of
you."

"What kind of help?"

"Let me see."  The woman walked over to a desk on the right and
pulled a couple of file folders from the In basket.  She read
through the files as she came back to the counter.

"Well, we have one student who is quadriplegic.  He would need
extensive physical help.  He's even willing to pay all of the
accommodation costs for that help.  That might suit you."  She
closed the file and dropped it on the counter.  "The other one
would not be able to pay for your accommodation costs, but would
not need as much help from you."

"What's his handicap?"  Clark's hopes had risen.  He had been able
to read the information, upside-down to him, in the file.

"He's blind."

"What kind of help would he need?"

"Mostly, orientation during the first few days of school,
transcribing some notes from tape, and reading aloud those texts
that he cannot get in Braille.  There might be some other things.
You could ask him."

"I think I'd like to talk to him, ma'am.  How do I get in touch?"

She said, "I'll get him to call you."

Clark wrote his name and his foster parent's phone number on a
slip of paper and gave the slip to the registration clerk.

The clerk took the slip of paper and clipped it to the front of
the file, acknowledging it's receipt,  "Thank you.  Will you be at
this number this evening?"  She continued when Clark nodded, "The
student's name is Timothy Neer.  I'll have him call you after 6
p.m."

Clark noted this information on the envelope of his registration
package.  "Thank you for all your help."

"Well, if it doesn't work out, there's always the other student."

"Thanks."

Clark left the office and headed out of the building again.  He
*really* hoped this worked out.  A man who was blind wouldn't see
the way Clark shaved or if he floated in his sleep.  It would be
*perfect*.  He didn't mind helping the man--he *liked* helping
people.  It seemed to be part of who he was.

Clark left Strong Hall and headed towards the parking lot on the
lower level behind the Union Building.

He drove the car out of the parking lot, towards downtown
Lawrence.  He wanted to see what was there, and maybe get a bite
to eat.  Hope always made him hungry.

He turned at 9th, since it looked as if it would most definitely
be a through street, driving through residential neighbourhood and
then, after passing the offices of the gas and electric company on
the right, started to see some stores on both sides of the street.
When he came to the intersection at Mass Street he knew he had hit
the "main street" since there was significantly more traffic and
the number of businesses was high.  He looked up and down the
street and saw that the street ended at the river three blocks to
his left.  He decided to head in that direction to see what there
was for sources of food. In the second block he found the Paradise
Cafe and parked in front of the restaurant.  He had a burger with
all the fixings, large fries and a large Coke to wash it all down
with.  He followed this up with a great piece of apple pie.  He'd
have to remember this place.

After filling his hunger gap, he decided to leave the car where it
was and set off walking to see what else he could find out about
the city.

He walked past a book store, two pizza places, a variety store and
the court house before coming to a park six blocks from where he
had parked.  He crossed the street at 14th and went in to J.
Hood's Booksellers.  Now *this* was a place he wanted to revisit
when he had money to spend.  He spent almost three quarters of an
hour in the bookstore just browsing.  When he finally had finished
his tour of the bookstore he continued his walk back up Mass
Street towards his car.  A music store caught his eye but since he
didn't have any spare money, didn't own a boom box, and his foster
parents would be taking their turntable with them when they left,
he figured he would be wasting his time and continued walking.  As
he was passing Dean's Half Price Books he noticed a "Help Wanted"
sign in the window.  He went in to ask about the job.

"Okay, it'd be filling shelves, hefting boxes and occasionally
tending the cash drawer when we're busy...mostly that would be in
the first three weeks of school.  After that you'd mostly be
stocking the shelves.  You look strong enough to handle the job."

"How much is the pay?"

"Minimum...but you get a 50% discount on texts and 10% off any
other books you buy here."

"How many hours a week?"

"Twenty during the first month, ten after that."

"When would you like me to start?"

"A week before classes suit you?"

"Yes, that would be fine."  He shook hands with the owner and
followed him into the back office to fill in an application for
the files and a W4 for tax deductions.

Clark was on top of the world.  He had a part-time job once he was
finished working for Mr. Kratz.  It looked like his accommodation
problem might be solved if Timothy Neer called tonight and they
got along.  Lana would be home by Friday.  He was a lucky man.

                    *****

******************************
Margaret Brignell
brignell@capitalnet.com
Ottawa, Canada
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
My fanfic now available at:
http://www.capitalnet.com/~brignell/
******************************
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 21:46:35 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Margaret Brignell <brignell@CAPITALNET.COM>
Subject:      New Fanfic:  Only You:  Promise -- Part 4 of 10
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Tim Neer had a nice telephone voice.  In just a few short minutes
Clark felt as if they could be friends.   Tim was pleased to have
Clark as his roommate and outlined in a little more detail what he
would need help with.

As the woman in the registrar's office had summarized, this mostly
consisted of escorting Tim wherever he went for the first week or
so of school until he got his bearings.  Clark explained about his
part-time job.  Tim told him not to worry.  He didn't need leading
around *all* the time, just into new areas.  They might have to
make some furniture changes in the room to help him out, but other
than that there should be no problem.

By the time the conversation was over, Clark was feeling more and
more comfortable with this arrangement.  It looked like his only
problem now would be studying and passing his year.  Humming,
Clark went into the kitchen and told Mr. and Mrs. Willoughby the
good news.  They were so pleased.  They had been worried about
what would happen to him once they retired to Florida.

                    *****

By the end of October, Clark was even happier about his life than
he ever thought he could be.  Tim was a great friend.  His part-
time job at the bookstore was not only a great place to meet
people and find books, but he was earning a little extra cash so
he could occasionally join in the get-togethers with the other
students.  Best of all, Lana wrote to him regularly telling him
how much she missed him.

Unfortunately, the main reason Lana missed him was because she did
*not* like journalism school.  She found the people in her class
to be so career-oriented they were a bore.  None of them cared
about how they looked, or what the brand of their clothes were or
*anything*.  Although, it could have been worse, she heard the
people over at U. of Metropolis were even more snobbish.  She
wanted to just finish and get it over with.  She wanted to
graduate and start earning money.  Then they could be married, and
everything would be perfect.

Clark, on the other hand, was *loving* journalism school.  He took
to it like a duck to water.  He made friends quickly and easily.
He had never been so happy.  His only problem was that he had to
hide who he really was.  It bothered him that he couldn't be truly
open and honest with his new friends...especially Tim.  He
desperately wanted to tell Tim the whole truth, but after seeing
what this had done to Lana he couldn't put that burden on his
newly found friend.

At Christmas, he was invited to stay with several of his new
friends for the holidays, but he decided to accept the invitation
>from Lana's parents.   He wanted to be able to talk to someone who
knew all about him.  Also, in the Lang household, he knew he would
be put up in the guest room so he wouldn't have to fear her
parents seeing him float in his sleep.  Her parents were strict
about the two of them not sleeping together while under their
roof.

                    *****

He arrived at the Lang's about a half hour before Lana and her
father were due to arrive from the airport.  His first sight of
Lana as she got out of the car was a shock.

She had bleached her hair *blond*!  Heaven only knew why.  He
wondered how much trouble he would be in if he asked.

He didn't have to ask.  Almost the first words out of Lana's mouth
were, "I got tired of being a redhead.  I decided to be a blond--
it gives me more options when choosing clothes.  Besides, blonds
show up better on camera."

"Ah, well that's great.  It's so good to see you."  Clark hugged
her, but felt her stiffen a little in his embrace.  He wondered
what was wrong.

Mrs. Lang led the party into the house and suggested that they all
have cocktails before sitting down to dinner.  Lana downed two
vodka martinis very quickly and asked for a third.  Clark was
worried about Lana.  She never drank to excess.  What was going on
here?

Lana continued to drink.  She had the third cocktail and then
gulped both red and white wine throughout dinner.

Several times Mrs. Lang protested, "Lana, what's wrong with you?
We have company.  Behave yourself!"  Lana made no response.  Each
time she was reprimanded, she just took the nearest bottle of wine
in both hands and filled her glass with infinite care so as not to
spill a drop.  After the third time, Mr. Lang took the bottles
>from the table and put them on the sideboard.

Clark was really concerned.  "Lana, honey, maybe you should go
upstairs and get some rest?"

Lana's only response was to say solemnly and distinctly, "Don't be
silly.  I'm fine."  She spoiled the effect by hiccoughing and
taking another swig from her wineglass.

By the time they were at the dessert and coffee stage, Lana was
definitely feeling the effects of the variety of liquors she had
consumed.  She spilled cake and icing down the front of her dress
and slopped coffee on the damask table cloth.  She seemed to find
both of these events extremely funny.  This was totally unlike
Lana, Clark thought.  She was usually such a neat freak.

As they left the dining room, she stumbled into the table and two
of the chairs.  Clark tried to support her by the elbow, but she
shook his hand away.

She clung to the doorframe for a few seconds on her way into the
living room.  Then, on entering the room, she walked directly into
the back of the sofa, as if she hadn't expected it to be there.
She giggled drunkenly as she blundered around the sofa.  She
almost fell into the rubber plant beside the fireplace, then,
reeling towards the centre of the room, she concluded her
stumbling journey by falling face down on the deep-pile carpet in
front of the hearth.

"Lana!  Get up this minute!"  Mrs. Lang stood, gripping the back
of one of wingback chairs, horrified at the sight of her daughter
lying in a drunken state on her best carpet.

"Now, Madeleine, the girl's in no condition to listen to you,"
said Mr. Lang.  "Why don't you clear the table and make us all
some coffee.  I'm sure Clark would like some coffee after he takes
Lana upstairs.  Wouldn't you, Clark?"

Clark was kneeling beside Lana on the carpet as he nodded his
agreement.  Lana roused slightly as he picked her up.  She
alternately hiccoughed and giggled into his shoulder.

Clark was seriously worried about Lana.  She *never* got drunk.
She liked being in control too much.

She passed out again with her head resting on his shoulder.  He
carried her limp form upstairs and into her bedroom.

On the way upstairs she came round with a small groan and started
to snuggle against him, nibbling at his neck.  As he placed her on
her bed, Lana tried to pull him into bed with her.  When he
resisted, she started to cry.

"Lana, what is it? What's wrong?"

"I'm...gonna throw up."

Clark quickly picked her up again and got her to the bathroom--
just in time.  After she was finished relieving herself of the
dinner and drinks she had consumed less than half an hour ago, he
helped clean her up and carried her back into her bedroom.

She was still hiccoughing slightly as he put her back on the bed.

"Lana.  What is it?  I'm really worried.  You *never* do this sort
of thing."  He sat on the side of the bed and held her close.

He heard her swallow another hiccough.  "I th-th-think I'm
pregnan'."  She sobbed into his sleeve.

Clark was stunned.  They had both always used protection.  How
could this be?

He stroked her hair, trying to comfort her.  "Lana, it's okay.  We
were going to get married, anyway.  It'll just be a little sooner,
that's all."

Lana's sobs increased.  "Clark!  You don' wanna do that."  She
raised her head.  Her pale face was tear-stained, her eyes wide.
"Ish not yours."

Clark felt the blood drain from his face.  "N-n-not mine?"

"Oh, please Clark...d-d-don't be m-m-mad,"  She whimpered.  "I was
so l-l-lonely for you and thish one night I...I... had a few
drinks and thish guy was so much like you and...and...."  Her eyes
glazed over.  "I wanted you *so* badly."  She covered her mouth
and nose with her fingers and giggled.

"Lana, you only had to call.  I would have come.  You *know* I
would."  He tried to keep the edge out of his voice.

Lana continued, as if he hadn't spoken.  "I was so *miserable*.
My teacher told me I'd n-n-never make a decent journalist."  Lana
made a noise that sounded like a cross between a sob and a
hiccough, "...And Claude was so nice and had thish really sexy
French accent and I...I.... "   She was crying drunkenly again.

Clark was still numb from the news.  He went into reporter mode,
asking all the "right" questions.

"Have you seen a doctor?"

Lana shook her head, then groaned and held her temples with her
fingertips.  "I don't *want* to see a doctor.  They'll tell me I'm
pregnant!  I don't *want* to be pregnant!"

"How long ago was it that...?"

She giggled foolishly and tried to pull him down to the bed by his
tie.  He loosened her grip on his tie and repeated the question,
twice, before she answered, "November...s-s-seventh."

"Then I should be able to see if something's there.  Lie still and
I'll look."  Clark used his Special vision to look into her
abdomen.  He had studied enough biology by now to be pretty sure
that there was nothing unusual.

She was looking up at him pie-eyed, clinging to his hand.  He
wondered if she was sober enough to understand what she was being
told.

"I don't think you're pregnant.  But you should see a doctor, just
in case. I'm not exactly an expert at this sort of thing."  Clark
tried to make it sound as if it were a joke.  But, even to his own
ears, it did not sound funny.

Lana raised herself up on one elbow and tipsily said, "Goody!" and
then giggling, fell back onto the pillow.  She was obviously still
too drunk to talk about this rationally.  He told himself he
should leave so she could sleep it off.

"I'll let you rest now.  Try to get some sleep."  Clark gently
pulled himself away from her grip and headed downstairs.  On his
way out of her room he turned off the light and closed the door.
She was snoring before he got to the bottom step.

"Clark!  What's the matter with Lana?  Why did she do that?"  Mrs.
Lang asked anxiously as she handed him a cup of coffee.

Clark fought with himself to keep his emotions in check in front
of Lana's parents.   He gave them the part of the truth he thought
they would accept.  "She had a bad report from school and she was
trying to forget it."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."  Mentally, Clark added 'now' to his brief response.

Why hadn't Lana just called him if she felt she needed him?  Why
substitute someone else?  They would have to have a serious talk
in the morning.

                    *****

******************************
Margaret Brignell
brignell@capitalnet.com
Ottawa, Canada
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
My fanfic now available at:
http://www.capitalnet.com/~brignell/
******************************
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 21:46:37 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Margaret Brignell <brignell@CAPITALNET.COM>
Subject:      New Fanfic:  Only You:  Promise -- Part 5 of 10
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

"I don't know.  I just didn't think of it.  It's not exactly the
first thing that comes to mind, having your boyfriend fly himself
in to ease your loneliness, is it?"   She rubbed her temples with
her fingertips.  Lana had a splitting headache and sounded
peevish.

They had donned overcoats and boots and walked out across the
snow-covered lawn to the Lang's summerhouse to talk privately.
Clark had asked her again, now that she was sober and could give a
rational response, *why* she hadn't just called him and let him
know that she needed him in Metropolis.

"I don't know.  I'd think it would be something you couldn't
forget."  He paused to allow her to respond.  But she just sat
rubbing her temples.  "Maybe it means that you're denying that I
can do those sorts of things."

"Maybe it does.  I know I don't *want* you doing those things.
You might get caught."  Lana pushed a blond strand out of her
eyes.  "I guess I just blocked it out.  I was drunk.  I'm sorry."

Clark felt desolate.  He had believed that Lana, of all people,
truly knew him and wanted him the way he was.  Now he wasn't so
sure.

"Do you want to be free to see other people?"  Clark held his
breath.  If he didn't have Lana to depend on...who could he
confide in?

"No, of course not.  I told you.  I was feeling depressed.  I got
a little drunk and a really nice guy made me feel better."  Lana
put her hand on Clark's cheek.  "I was drunk enough to think I was
with *you* the whole time.  It wasn't until I woke up the next
morning that I realized what I had done."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?  We've talked on the phone lots of
times and you never said a word."

"I guess I was too humiliated--and I was hoping that you would
never find out."

"So, if you hadn't thought you were pregnant, you wouldn't have
told me?"  Clark was upset at the idea that Lana would keep
something this important from him.  If she was having doubts about
their relationship, she should have told him.

"Clark, don't be mad!  I'm not happy with what I did.  But it's in
the past.  I can't change it."

"I'm not mad, Lana.  I'm hurt.  I thought we had total
trust...that we could tell each other *anything*.  Now, I find out
that I was wrong."

"Could you just stop trying to lay a guilt trip on me until this
hangover is gone?  I really can't cope with your complaining right
now."  Lana stood up and left the pavilion, waded through the snow
and went back into the house.

                    *****

Clark was back in the room he shared with Tim at the university
and was still hurting from Lana's news over the holidays.

She had been to see a doctor, in Lawrence--not Smallville, since
she didn't want her mother finding out--to determine if she was or
was not pregnant.  Clark had been right.   However, there was a
real strain on their relationship now.

Clark was unhappy about her inability to accept his Special
skills.  Further, Lana's tipsy escapade in her parents' house on
top of her indiscretion in Metropolis did not sit well with her
self-esteem.  Lana had never been one to cope well with
embarrassing or humiliating experiences.  Clark wasn't sure if
either of them would recover from this episode.

By the time Lana left to catch the plane back to Metropolis they
still had not resolved their differences and were being
excessively polite to each other, even in private.

Clark sighed to himself.  He sat on his bed.  He was supposed to
be unpacking, but he'd given up on that for the moment.

"Clark, what's wrong?  Didn't you have a good Christmas?"  Tim
sounded anxious.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yeah, even a blind man could see it,"  Tim said wryly.

"Lana told me she slept with someone else.  She thought she was
pregnant...the test was negative."  Clark was having trouble
containing the hurt he felt.

Tim walked over to him and, once he'd established where Clark was,
gripped him by the shoulder.  "I'm sorry, Clark.  You should have
told me just to butt out.  It's none of my business."

Clark was touched.  He felt tears spring to his eyes.  He hadn't
felt quite this dejected since that day the truck had....  He
breathed in with a shuddering breath.  Even after all this time,
just remembering that sunny afternoon in June was torture.  Added
to his current feelings of desolation, it was too much.  He was
crying...for his parents...for the love he had lost...for the hope
that had died within him.

Tim sat down on the bed and tentatively put his arm around Clark's
shoulders in comfort.  "Clark, this isn't just about your
girlfriend, is it?"

"N-n-no."  Clark tried valiantly to stop crying.  After a few
minutes he finally succeeded.  "I'm sorry, Tim.  You don't need me
falling apart on you.  I'll go wash up."  He started to get up,
but Tim pulled him back down.

"Okay.  I know this isn't any of my business, but you are in
*pain*!"  Tim touched Clark's mouth to determine his expression.
"Maybe talking about it would help."

Clark fought to gain control over his emotions.  He couldn't tell
Tim that he felt so...so *alone*!  Guys didn't *do* that. Clark
grabbed a tissue and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

"How much of this is about your girlfriend doing the deed with
someone else?"

"Some.  Lana is the only person I've been able to really talk to--
to love--since my parents died.  If she doesn't want me any
more...."

"There *are* other women, Clark.  Maybe, you should think about
finding someone else."

"I c-c-can't!  She's the only one who has really cared about me
since my folks died. I can never find someone else like that."

Tim sighed.  "Clark.  You're a good-looking guy.  You have all
your faculties.  You're doing well in school and have a ton of
friends.  Why do you think you can't have a relationship with
anyone else but her?"

Clark let the red herring distract him to avoid answering the
direct question.  "What makes you think I'm good-looking?"

"You remember when we first met and I explored your face?"

Clark nodded and said, "Yes."

"Trust me.  You are the best-featured face that I've ever come
across.  Besides, I'm blind...not deaf.  I hear what the girls say
when they see you coming.  I wish I had those kinds of comments
made about *me*!"

There was silence in the room as Clark mulled this over.  How
could he explain his dilemma to Tim without revealing his secret?

"Clark.  I'm serious here.  You have a *lot* going for you.  What
*happened* to you that makes you feel so inferior?"

"A lot of things, I guess."  Clark took a deep breath.  "My
parents were killed in a car accident when I was ten.  I saw it
happen but I wasn't able to stop it."

"God!  That must have been *awful*!"  Tim's face was the picture
of shock and concern.  "But, you shouldn't feel responsible for
that.  You were only a *kid*, for crying out loud."

Clark nodded glumly.  "Yeah.  That's what my therapist kept
telling me."

Tim asked,  "That's not the whole story is it?"

"No.  I've been in umpteen foster homes since then.  No one seemed
to want me for any length of time.  The only constant has been
Lana."

"What about your relatives?  Why didn't they take you in?"

"I was adopted.  My parents' relatives didn't want to have
anything to do with 'the bastard.'"

Tim made a raspberry noise.  "They actually called you that?"

"Well, my parents told everyone the story that I was the
illegitimate child of a cousin who had died about the time they
found me.  There was no one to contradict their story."

"Why couldn't they just tell the truth?"

"They were afraid the authorities would take me away from them if
they knew my Mom and Dad had found me in a field."

"They found you in a *field*?"

Clark nodded, then realizing his mistake, said, "Yes."

"So you don't know who your real family is?"

Clark shook his head.  "No...and there is no way of finding them."

"Well, I can see how that would all add up to you feeling
insecure.  But why not just forget the past, and form new
relationships?"

"Lana has always been there for me.  We have an understanding.  I
won't go back on my word."

"Even though she broke her part of the bargain?"

"She told me how lonely she had been feeling. How much she missed
me.  She got drunk and took comfort from someone who was trying to
help."

Tim snorted.  "You believe her?"

"Yes.  She wouldn't normally do something like that.  I know Lana.
I've known Lana since we were in kindergarten.  This isn't normal
for her." Clark stared at the pattern in the bedspread trying to
concentrate on the detail of the pattern to avoid thinking about
how he felt.  "I don't know what to do."

"Clark.  You need to figure this out for yourself--I know--but,
it's like...it's like there are *two* of you sitting there."

Clark's heart lurched.  Had Tim figured out his secret?

"On the outside there's this adult Clark who could be Hollywood's
idea of an 'all-American' and has the girls swooning over him;
but, inside, there's this little boy crouched in a dark corner
afraid to come out where people can see him and anxiously waiting
for the next rotten thing to happen to him."

"And people say you're blind."

"Yeah.  Tell me about it."  Tim grinned mischievously.  "Clark,
one of these days you're going to have to help that little boy
come out into the light."

"Yes...but how?"

"I don't know.  Maybe stop accepting the idea you deserve the
rotten things that happen?  I guess only you can figure that out."

Tim got up off the bed and pantomimed stepping down.  "Now I'll
get down from my soap box."

Clark laughed.  It sounded slightly hysterical to his own ears.
But Tim had pointed out the crux of his problem, up to a point.
Clark still couldn't see any way out of his dilemma regarding his
true nature, but talking to Tim had really helped him with his
current emotional crisis.

"Thanks, Tim.  Thanks for listening."

"That's what friends are for."

Clark started back in on his unpacking.

"So, Clark.  There's a Medieval Renaissance Faire being put on by
the theatre arts students tonight in Hash lounge.  I want to go.
What about you?"

Clark knew that if Tim wanted to go, someone would have to go with
him so he wouldn't be constantly stumbling over the furniture.
Crowded rooms, especially those with low-lying furniture were a
nightmare for him.  However, Tim never insisted that Clark tag
along.  He always asked first.  On those occasions when Clark had
been forced to say no, Tim had found someone else to help out.  So
it really was up to Clark to decide if he wanted to go or not.

"What the heck.  It might even be fun."

Tim held up his hand and Clark high-fived him.  Then, Clark turned
to finish his unpacking.

                    *****

******************************
Margaret Brignell
brignell@capitalnet.com
Ottawa, Canada
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
My fanfic now available at:
http://www.capitalnet.com/~brignell/
******************************
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 21:46:40 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Margaret Brignell <brignell@CAPITALNET.COM>
Subject:      New Fanfic:  Only You:  Promise -- Part 6 of 10
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

The Faire was in full swing by the time they got there.  They paid
their entrance fee, picked up drinks in plastic cups at Ye Olde
Fashioned Brewmaster, and started around the room.  They skipped
the toss type games.   Tim, because he couldn't see the target and
Clark because he didn't want to risk doing something Special.

They stopped in front of a tent-like structure.  "Madame Latetska:
She Sees All!  She Tells All!"  Clark read the sign aloud for
Tim's benefit.

"Doesn't sound very medieval to me."  Tim was sceptical.

"That's because it isn't."  A young woman in a purple turban came
out through the draperies used as a doorway into the "tent" of
Madame Latetska.  "The theatre arts types forgot to go to the
library to study up on the period before deciding on the booths.
They'll learn."

"Are you Madame Latetska?"

"We-e-ll!  You could say that."  She grinned mischievously.  "I'm
her for this evening, anyway."

They followed her into the tent.  Inside there was a small round
table covered in several table cloths with a large glass globe in
the centre.  They all sat down around the table.

"From what you said, I would guess you are *not* in theatre arts?"
Tim asked the young woman as she arranged her many shawls about
her shoulders.

"Nope.  I'm in the library science program.  Now which of you
wants your fortune told first?"

Tim volunteered.  "Madame Latetska" asked him to remove his watch
and held it's Braille-embossed face between her hands, closed her
eyes and hummed some kind of mantra.

"Ommmmmm.   I see a future of struggle and examination and then a
career that will please you.  Soon, you will meet someone who will
add new dimensions to your life."

Tim grinned.  This seemed like a safe bet for someone working his
way through university.  He took back his watch, flipped open the
face to check the time with his fingers, and closing the face
strapped the watch on his wrist.

Clark handed over his own watch and smiled as "Madame Latetska"
went into the same routine for him.

"Ommmmmm.  I see a future of examination and struggle and then a
career that will please you."  Her eyelids fluttered slightly, her
eyes seemed to roll up into her head and her voice lowered in
pitch.  "You are two but will become one.  Then you will find
someone for whom you have waited a long time."

"See, Clark, I told you there were two of you and everything would
work out."  Tim grinned.

The young lady's eyelids fluttered again.  She groaned and slid
off her chair.  Clark caught her before she hit the floor.

"What is it, Clark?"

"She's fainted."  Clark seated her as best he could on her chair,
lowering her head so that the blood would circulate to her head.

The young lady stirred and moaned quietly.  "What happened?"  She
sounded disoriented.

"You fainted right after you did my fortune."

"Fortune?  Oh, right."  She put her hand to her temple.

"Would you like me to get you some water?   We've only got beer
here."

"No, that's okay." She put trembling fingers to her forehead.  "I
guess I should give up my career in show business."

Tim said, "Clark, why don't you take her back to her room.  I'll
just sit here and play 'Madame Latetska' until you get back."

Clark asked the girl if that would be okay with her.  She agreed.

"I'm Clark.  This is Tim.  What's your name?"

"Lori...Lori Calumet."

Tim put out his hand.  "Nice to meet you, Lori.  What do I need to
know to be 'Madame Latetska'?"

"Just hold some item of theirs.  Chant and say that you see a
future of struggle and examination before they find a good career.
Add anything else that you can think of on the spur of the moment.
That's all."

"Right.  Got it."  Tim took the turban and positioned it on his
head.   He sat facing in the general direction of the opening in
the tent waiting for customers.

Clark guided Lori out of the tent and across the common room.
"Where are you staying?"

"Over in McCollom.  Second floor."

He picked up both of their coats in the cloakroom and assisted her
into her coat after she put on her boots.

The weather had gotten worse than it had been earlier in the
evening when Tim and he had come across the campus.   Now pellets
of snow were coming down and the wind was whistling strait along
Jayhawk.  He took hold of Lori's elbow and guided her over the
more treacherous icy sections until they reached the front
entrance to the dormitory.

In the brightly lit foyer of the dormitory, he could see how pale
she was.  "Will you be okay getting to your room?  Or, would you
prefer I stay with you?"

"I think I'm fine now.  I don't know what happened.  I remember
going into the Madame Latetska spiel and then I felt kind of
strange, like I was somewhere else watching the three of us from
above...and then you were holding my head down...you said I'd
fainted."

"You said I was two but would become one.  Then I'd find someone
I've been waiting for.  What did you mean?"

"Did I say that?"  Lori swayed slightly put her hand on the wall,
as if for support.  "I don't remember."

Clark grasped her by the shoulders and steadied her.  "I think I
should make sure you get to your room.  Which one is it?"

"214,"  Lori whispered.

It didn't take Clark long to assist her to her room.  He took the
key from Lori's shaking hand and unlocked the door.

At the sound of the turning lock, the door was wrenched open from
within.  A brunette woman with a blue face masque was standing
there.

"Lori!  What the heck..."

Lori swayed against Clark who picked her up and carried her into
the room that was very similar in design to the one he and Tim
shared over in Ellsworth.  "Which bed should I lay her on?"

Wide-eyed, the brunette indicated the bed on the left.  "Who are
you?  What did you *do* to her?"

"Clark Kent.  Lori fainted at the Faire while she was telling my
fortune.  I'm just making sure she gets here okay."

Lori's roommate seemed to know exactly what to do and was
efficiently making a cold compress to put on Lori's forehead as he
backed out of the room.  "I'll come by tomorrow to make sure she's
okay."

"Sure.  That would be good."  The brunette closed the door.

As he was walking down the hall back to the staircase he heard
Lori's roommate ask, "Lori?  Did you go into another one of your
trances?  You really should see someone about this."

A trance.  Had she gone into a trance to tell him about his
future?  Could what she said about his future have actually been
real?

When he got back to the Faire, Tim was having a whale of a time
being "Madame Latetska."  In a quick break between clients he told
Clark to go on without him.  There was someone, a female someone,
who would make sure he found his way back to the dorm.  Tim held
up his hand, Clark high-fived him and continued on his rounds
taking in the rest of the Faire.

Tim came back to the room very late...and very pleased with
himself.

                    *****

Clark followed up on Lori's condition and was happy to find out
that she had fully recovered.  He was still puzzled by her trance-
induced prediction for him--but decided that it probably didn't
mean anything anyway.

He had taken Tim with him when he followed up on Lori.  Since then
he and Tim had double-dated with Lori and her roommate Georgia
Cain.  It hadn't taken too long to realize that the foursome would
become two.  Tim had developed a relationship with Lori and
Georgia had started dating someone over in Templin.

By Spring, things were starting to look as if they might work out.
The job at Dean's bookstore had become routine.  Clark was getting
straight A's in his classes. If he could get his relationship with
Lana straightened out, everything would be fine.  Maybe Tim was
right, maybe if he stopped *expecting* the rotten stuff to happen,
it would stop happening.

Tim came back from his date with Lori.  He was grinning from ear
to ear.

"So, Clark, any mail?"

"Yeah.  You got three bills and two letters.  Did you want me to
read them to you?

"The bills can keep until Monday.  Who did I get letters from?"

"Oh.  The first is from your Mom.  It's in Braille, so you can
read that one."  Clark handed over the envelope with the letter.

"The other is from someone in Metropolis."  Clark peered at the
return address.  "Looks like it's from an L. Lane.  Did you want
me to open it?"

"Lois?  Sure.  I love hearing from Lois."

Clark used his fingernail to rip open the envelope.  He quickly
scanned the letter.  It seemed personal, but not intimate.  He
read the contents out loud.  It was mostly about people and places
he knew nothing about, and when finished he asked, "Who is she?
She sounds like you go *way* back."

"Yeah.  We were in first grade together.  I had the *biggest*
crush on her--that was back when I could still see.  She had the
most gorgeous brown eyes.  My family went to Florida that year.  I
brought back this shiny stone I found on the beach and gave it to
her.  She says she still has it." Tim grinned.  "She's a little
strange that way."

"She sounds nice."  Clark folded the letter and put it back in its
envelope.  "Let me know if you want help when you're replying."

Tim thanked him and opened the letter from his mother.

                    *****

Smallville, Kansas -- June 1986
*******************************

Clark had worked at the Smallville Press last summer and was
continuing with his journalism career there this summer as well.

He was boarding with the Kratz household again. He would have
liked to have gone on that trip to Europe with Tim.  However, he
didn't have the funds for that kind of trip if he was to pay for
his third year's accommodation at KU.

Lana had come home at the end of the school year with passing
grades, but she still wasn't doing that well in most of her
journalism classes, other than on-camera appearances.  Since her
father was paying for everything, she didn't *have* to take a
summer job...so she didn't.

They had a nice summer.  Lana seemed to be still afraid to
continue with their physical relationship after her mistake a year
and a half earlier.  Clark was willing to wait until she was
ready.  He wanted her to be sure she truly wanted a relationship
with him, accepting him the way he really was.

In the fall, they both went back to their studies.

September 14th, Clark got an hysterical call from Lana begging him
to read today's Daily Planet.  There was an article in it by a
Lois Lane that he *had* to read!

                    *****

******************************
Margaret Brignell
brignell@capitalnet.com
Ottawa, Canada
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
My fanfic now available at:
http://www.capitalnet.com/~brignell/
******************************
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 21:46:42 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Margaret Brignell <brignell@CAPITALNET.COM>
Subject:      New Fanfic:  Only You:  Promise -- Part 7 of 10
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

Metropolis, New Troy -- June 1986
*********************************

Lois Lane was in seventh heaven.  She was now working for Perry
White and actually researching *real* news.

Her internship with Cat Grant had been a real eye-opener.  Cat had
taught her how to worm information out of the most stubborn
interview subject.  Lois was grateful beyond belief that Cat had
taken her on as a mentor.  Nevertheless, Lois had not felt
entirely happy extracting information on the dirty secrets of the
rich and famous in Metropolis.  She wanted to be in the forefront
of reporting the *real* news...and now she was!

If she did well this summer, Mr. White had indicated that there
would be a permanent job for her in the newsroom when she
graduated in a year and a half.  She was *determined* to do well.

Over the next two months she did research for the front line
reporters, ran errands for Mr. White and generally made herself
useful.  By the end of August she had even written a couple of
short articles on topics that weren't exactly earth-shattering,
but the important thing was that Perry White was pleased with her
work.

The Thursday of the last week before she was to return to classes,
Perry White called her into his office.  There were two big burly
men and a slim young woman sitting on the sofa and chairs in the
editor's office.

"Lois!  Come on in, gal.  I want you to meet some people."

Lois stepped through the door and closed it behind her.  "Yes, Mr.
White?"

"'Perry'...honey...I keep telling you, just call me 'Perry'."

"Yes...Perry."

"This is Inspector Henderson, Sergeant Swartz and Constable
Meehan."

Lois nodded in their direction.

"They're doing an investigation and are looking for someone about
your age to help them nail the...the person that's committing
these acts."  Lois wondered what particular swear word Perry
thought was too harmful for her delicate ears.  He was *always*
doing that--editing his speech to protect her.  She wished he'd
stop it.

Inspector Henderson coughed quietly.  "Ms. Lane...."

"Lois.  Please call me Lois."

"Lois.  There's a sexual predator on the loose in Metropolis.
We've pretty well identified who he is and his modus operandi, but
we need someone young who attends the University of Metropolis to
help catch him in the act.  It might get dangerous.  Would you be
willing to help?"

"I guess...but why me?  Why not a police woman?"

Constable Meehan spoke up.  "I'm the youngest police woman on the
force, but I don't look young enough.  This guy likes very young-
looking girls and usually preys on eighteen- and nineteen year-
olds.  We need someone about that age to pull this off."

"If I do this, can I write the story?"

Perry nodded.

"Do I get an exclusive?"

Perry guffawed.  "Well, if that don't beat all."

Inspector Henderson hurriedly interrupted.  "Yes, Lois, when this
is over you get the exclusive."

"Okay.  I'll do it.  What do I have to do?"

Inspector Henderson explained that they been studying this guy for
almost a year now, but still hadn't got enough evidence to
prosecute.  Recently, one of the perpetrator's victims had been
smart enough to get a sexual assault medical exam done immediately
after she was assaulted.  She and another victim were willing to
testify, but the police needed independent proof of the man's
guilt.  What they planned to do was have Lois pretend to be as
close a match as possible to his typical victim.  They would
record everything that went on in conversation with this man in
the hopes that he would incriminate himself.

"This means that you wear a wire during your entire encounter with
this guy.  We'll be listening in to make sure that he doesn't harm
you.  Understand that under *no* circumstances do you eat or drink
anything that this man may have touched, however remotely."

"Why not?"  Lois was puzzled.

Constable Meehan answered.  "The man likes young women...really
young women...but he's smart enough to know that he has to make
sure the women are of legal age.  So he likes to pull this stunt
with eighteen- or nineteen-year old women who look much younger
and are alone for the first time in the big city.  The typical
victim is eighteen years old, brunette or redhead, recently
arrived from a small town in the Midwest, and missing her hometown
boyfriend.  He usually picks her up at a public function where she
has ordered a drink from the bar, showing ID, so he knows she is
of legal age.  He commiserates with her about how bleak the big
city is and how cruel life at school can be.  Once he gains her
trust he slips an hallucinogenic into the food or drink she is
having.  He then convinces her that *he* is her boyfriend who has
miraculously come to visit her, and seduces her."

"That's *disgusting*!"  Lois was appalled.  "But, why don't *all*
the women report this guy to the authorities?"

Inspector Henderson took over the explanation.  "They're too
ashamed.  Plus, they don't want their boyfriends to find out what
they did."

Sergeant Swartz added,  "They usually believe that *they* were at
fault."

Inspector Henderson continued.  "We were lucky to find two women
that were brave enough to get past their personal embarrassment to
report this guy.  However, even though one of them had the smarts
to have sexual assault medical exam, at this point, it would be
their word against his.   We've been studying this guy for almost
a year now, but still haven't got enough evidence to prosecute.
As far as we can tell, he started his little game a couple of
years back at the polytechnic and has now moved on to seduce women
at your university."

Lois sat in silence for a couple of minutes.  "How do I avoid
drinking whatever this guy is pushing?"

Sergeant Swartz said, "Constable Meehan will be giving you
detailed instructions on how to proceed.  We've arranged for a
dummy home for you in an apartment near the university.  We do
*not* want this guy knowing where you live!  Would you be able to
stay in that apartment this weekend?"

Lois nodded.  "I'll tell my parents I'm staying in town with a
girlfriend to join in the Rush week events."

"Okay, good."  Inspector Henderson stood up.  "Constable Meehan
will meet you at the apartment Friday at 7 p.m. to bring you up to
speed on Operation Chameleon."   He handed Lois a slip of paper
with an address on it.

                    *****

Cathy Meehan had been great.  She had given Lois intense training
in how to *not* drink, while appearing to be knocking them back.
It seemed to Lois like some kind of slight-of-hand magic trick.
She gave Lois her background story and fake identification.

Lois was now Joan Dough from Venus, Nebraska.  Her boyfriend's
name was George and she was a freshman in Social Sciences at the
University of Metropolis.  The university had temporarily added
her false ID to their enrollment records.  They were just as
anxious as the police to stop this man's activities.

"I don't know anything about Nebraska...what if he asks me for
information?"

"This guy normally picks up his victims after they've had a couple
of drinks.  That's why they often believe it was *their*
fault...they think they were drunk.  If he asks any awkward
questions, just giggle and act a little tipsy.  He'll be
charmed...trust me."  Cathy grinned maliciously.

Cathy went on to explain the ins and outs of the microphone and
tape recorder Lois would be wearing Saturday night and what to do
when Lois figured the guy had planted his surprise package in her
drink.  "So, are you ready to roll?"

"I'm ready!"  Lois was exhilarated at the prospect of nailing a
*real* news story.

                    *****

Lois had her second drink in hand.  Actually, the drink was just
the flat ginger ale she had instructed the bartender to give her
in place of the beer codename "Komodo Ale" she ordered.

A guy matching the photo she'd been given approached her. He was
about six feet, slim, dark hair, brown eyes and the trace of a
five-o-clock shadow around his jaw-line.

"Hi, is this seat taken?"

Lois shook her head and took a swig of her "beer."

"No, I was expecting a friend, but I guess they had better things
to do."  Cathy had said to sound resentful and lonely...Lois
figured her statement reeked of self pity quite nicely.

"That's a real shame.  You from Metropolis?"

"No, I just got into Metropolis two weeks ago.  I start school
this week.  I'm from Nebraska...Venus, Nebraska."

"Venus?  I've never heard of it."

"*Nobody's* heard of it.  Its main claim to fame are two gas
stations and a post office.  I wanted to get out and see what real
life was all about...see the big city...but I guess I'm a country
girl after all."

"You don't like the city?"

Lois was having trouble responding to that one because she *loved*
the city.  She decided now was a good time to giggle, and did so.

"I like the city okay...I guess I just miss George."

"George?"

"Yeah.  George is my boyfriend back in Venus.  He's studying at
the agricultural school back home.  I...I...miss him already...and
I won't be able to see him again until Thanksgiving!"  Lois tried
her best to look as if she were holding back tears, wishing she
had paid closer attention in that theatre arts class she had taken
in high school.

"Oh, what a shame."  He looked totally in tune with her feelings.
The music started up again.  "Would you like to dance?"

Lois hesitated.  What was she supposed to do now?  The guy wasn't
doing anything more criminal than asking for a dance.  Maybe this
was part of his cover.  He *had* fooled countless women into
believing his lies.

"Okay.  But I'll warn you now, I'm not real good."  Lois decided
it was in character for her to finish off the last third of her
"beer" before going on to the dance floor.

The guy was smooth, real smooth.  At first he danced with her as
if he were her cousin.  However, she noticed that he subtly moved
in closer during the second dance and even closer during the
third.  He led her back to her seat and offered to buy her another
beer.

"Well, only if you tell me your name."  Lois smiled at him.

"Claude.   Claude von Herschmugal.  I've just transferred in from
Utica State."

Lois extended her hand.  "Joan.  Joan Dough...that's d-o-u-g-h.
I'm starting classes here at Met U."

"Nice to meet you Joan, now what were you drinking?"

Lois gave him the "Komodo Ale" codename she was using with the
bartender to get flat ginger ale.

He brought back two drinks and handed her one.  Lois was almost
afraid to take the glass, but did.

"So, Claude, where are you from?  You have a nice accent."

Claude told her a long romantic story of his family in Europe
escaping from a despotic regime in some unnamed country.  While he
was telling her the story, Lois "sipped" on her drink and put it
on the table beside her chair.  She slipped the ring on her right
hand around so that the "stone" faced down and let her hand rest
over top of the beer glass.  The ring was actually a sophisticated
kind of sponge and she was using the instructions she'd received
to obtain a sample of the drink Claude had given her.  After a
short while she lifted her hand from the glass.  Claude was
finished with his story.

"I guess what they say is true...you only rent beer.  I have to
visit the ladies room, I'll be back in a minute."

Lois held her right hand away from her body and walked to the
nearest rest room.  Cathy was waiting for her and with gloved
hands removed the ring from Lois' finger.

Cathy did a quick test, confirmed it was positive, and said that
Lois should go ahead with phase two of their plan.  She gave Lois
another ring to wear to avoid suspicion and Lois returned to
Claude.

Claude asked her about George...what he looked like...how he
talked.  Lois gave him the details she had memorized.  Slowly, she
realized, Claude was taking on the mannerisms and speech patterns
of "George" as she had described him.

At the point that almost all of her drink had been poured into the
house plant behind her, Lois widened her eyes and gazed at Claude.
Cathy had told her to act as if she was seeing an amazing event
that made her feel wonderful...that what she was supposed to be
seeing was her "boyfriend" George, miraculously transplanted from
Nebraska.

"George?  Is it really you?"  Lois tried to sound as if she were
in the presence of a miracle.  She hoped she had succeeded.

"I missed you so much Joan,...I *had* to come."  Claude leaned
forward and caressed Lois' lips with a luscious kiss.

Lois held her breath...this guy was *good*.  If there really had
been a George she would almost have been ready to succumb even
without an hallucinogen.

Breathily she whispered, "Oh, George!" and leaned towards Claude
as if to deepen their kiss.

"Joan.  Wait.  Not here.  We should go back to your place.  Okay?"

Lois giggled and whispered, "Okay."

Claude wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to the
entrance.  When they got into the cab, he asked "Joan" to give the
driver the address.  Lois complied...ending the instructions with
another tiny giggle for good measure.

******************************
Margaret Brignell
brignell@capitalnet.com
Ottawa, Canada
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
My fanfic now available at:
http://www.capitalnet.com/~brignell/
******************************
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 21:46:45 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Margaret Brignell <brignell@CAPITALNET.COM>
Subject:      New Fanfic:  Only You:  Promise -- Part 8 of 10
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

When it came time to unlock the apartment door, Lois was so
nervous she fumbled and dropped the keys.  Claude picked them up
and unlocked the door for her.  Lois hoped that he would think
that she was just too stoned to hold on to the keys.

Claude turned on one lamp in the room, walked over to the tape
player and put on a tape of sensuous, romantic music.  He must
have brought it with him because Lois knew for a fact that the
collection in her fake apartment was mostly easy listening and
soft rock.

After setting the scene, Claude turned back to lead Lois from the
doorway to the sofa.  Lois tried to keep the look of awe and
wonder on her face as he did so.

"Joan.  I can hardly believe we're here...together."  Claude
gently pulled Lois so she would sit down.  He ran the back of his
fingers along her throat and across the front of her blouse.  Lois
had a hard time keeping up her pose of stoned wonder.

He began to unbutton her blouse all the while murmuring sweet
nothings to "Joan."  On the one hand this was scaring the bejesus
out of her, but on the other she didn't want the seduction to
stop!  Every other guy she had ever been this close to was totally
inept compared to Claude.

If she wasn't careful this *bastard* would take her virginity.
She pulled away from him.

"Joan?  What's the matter?  I thought you wanted...."

God, he was good.  How many times had the victim almost resisted
his web of deceit only to be pulled back in by his pose of hurt
innocence?

It was time to use her code to have the cops get in here and
arrest this guy.

She stood up and proclaimed loudly, "You're not George!  Get away
>from me!"

Lois backed up to the door of the apartment and pulled it open.
Claude was faster than she'd expected.  He caught her just as
she'd opened the door a fraction of an inch.

"Now, Joan.  Don't do anything silly.  If George really loved you
he'd *be* here for you.  Wouldn't he?"

The guy was mesmerizing.  Lois found herself nodding agreement
about this mythical boyfriend's lack of attention to her needs.
Lois shook herself.  Had he managed to slip her something after
all?  There *was* no George for crying out loud!

Lois wished the cops would get here. What was keeping them?  They
were supposed to be just in the next apartment.  She opened her
mouth to scream for help.

Claude clapped his right hand over her mouth.  "Now, Joan, you
really don't want to do that, now do you?  You consented to me
coming here, to do what we both know you want to do.  Let's not
get irrational, now.  Let's finish what we began.  I *am* very
good.  Afterwards you can let me know how I compare to George."

Claude took his hand from her mouth in order to continue his
progress in removing her clothes.

"Please!  Don't! You're frightening me!" Lois was really scared
now.

"It's okay, Joan.  I have some nice medicine that will take all
those scary feelings away."   Claude reached into his pocket and
pulled out a syringe.

Lois tried to scream, but Claude had his arm around her head and
his hand  clamped over her mouth again.  She tried to kick him,
but he seemed to know exactly how to avoid her feet.  She
struggled, but his grip on her lower jaw grew tighter.

"Now, Joan.  That's *not* the way I like my girls to behave.  I
like my girls to be willing--eager in fact."  Claude pulled the
plastic cover off the needle with his teeth and moved the point of
the syringe close to Lois' neck.

Lois took a sobbing intake of breath and then closed her eyes in
relief as she heard...

"Freeze!  Drop that and put your hands over your head."  Inspector
Henderson jumped through the partially open apartment door with
Sergeant Swartz right behind him.  Swartz broke Claude's grip on
Lois just as Cathy arrived from the university frat house where
the party had been held.

The police read Claude his Miranda Rights. He refused to comment
past saying he understood them, and they led him away in
handcuffs.

Cathy made a cup of hot herbal tea for Lois to help calm her
nerves.  Inspector Henderson apologized for almost missing her cue
for them to charge in like the cavalry.  They explained that when
Claude had unbuttoned her blouse, he had somehow broken the
connection to the live mike.  Unfortunately, the bugs they had
placed in the apartment were on tape only.  Lois told them it was
okay, they had got there in time--and that's what counted.

Now that the danger was over, Lois was feeling exhilarated by the
whole experience.  She could hardly wait to get to her portable
typewriter and write up the story.

                    *****

          "Chameleon College Seducer Exposed"
               by Lois Lane.

Lois gazed at the headline in awe.  She, Lois Lane, had a front
page story.  Okay, the story about the President's political
breakfast with some bigwigs from the Middle East had taken over
*most* of the front page, but *her* story was there too.

Perry White had praised her writing.  The police had praised her
courage.

She wanted more of this...much more.

                    *****

Lawrence, Kansas - September 1986
***********************************

"...and in the end it was all about power.  The power of one man
to control, to manipulate--to humiliate.  The power to use the
trust and commitment of a woman, for the man she loves, against
her.  This man shattered the hopes and dreams of dozens of women.
Whatever punishment he receives can never compensate them for what
they have lost!"

Clark finished reading the story for the sixth time.

He knew now that Lana had told the truth.  She had been tricked by
this psychotic man into believing that he, Clark, had come to
Metropolis.  Her shame at being duped had led her to do what most
of this man's other victims had done...try to pretend it had never
happened.  If her cycle hadn't skipped a beat she would never have
had the humiliation of being obliged to tell him of her "crime."

This man had much more to answer for than the "harmless prank" his
lawyer was claiming.

Clark phoned Lana to let her know that he now understood what had
really happened.  They were able to discuss their differences and
begin to return to their customary rapport.  Clark asked Lana if
he could come see her...his way...on Friday night.  She agreed.

That weekend, Lana showed Clark all the sights of Metropolis--
including a former familiar one in her bedroom.  They were,
however, doubly careful in making sure they used protection.  Lana
didn't want *anything* to put a crimp in their plans to get
married *after* they graduated.

                    *****

In February, 1987 the lawyer for the Kent estate contacted Clark
and asked him to come in to his office in Kansas City, on the last
day of February.

When Clark left the office it was with the knowledge that he no
longer had to share accommodation at university in his fourth year
or take on a job immediately after graduation.

He was now officially (if not actually) twenty-one years old.  His
Mom and Dad had not only left him the farm, which was making a
decent profit rented out to a family who cared about it, but they
had also provided a nest egg of stocks and bonds that had grown
and matured significantly in the years between their death and his
age of majority.  He wasn't wealthy, but he no longer had to pinch
every penny.

                    *****

Lawrence, Kansas -- June, 1988
******************************

Clark's fourth year seemed to fly right by and before he knew it,
it was graduation time.  He had quit his job at Dean's books and
took up residence in a single room in Ellsworth.  His course load
was heavier and he concentrated on getting good grades.  The next
thing he knew it was June and he was graduating.

The graduation ceremony over, Clark said his good-byes to the
people he had spent the better part of four years with.

Lana had not been able to come to see him graduate.  She had found
a job as an assistant to the fashion editor at LNN.  Yesterday had
been the start date for her new job.  Her parents had come
instead.  He was grateful for their kindness, but somehow wished
that things could have been different.  He wished Mom and Dad
could have seen him graduate.

His journalism counsellor, Professor Carlton, came up to him at
that moment to shake his hand and congratulate him on his current
achievement and on the promise of greater things to come.  Clark
thanked him for his kind words.

"I'm only calling them as I see them.  If you ever need a
reference, Clark, just call me.  I know a number of senior editors
in various city newspapers that would be happy to see you on my
say so."

"Thank you.  Thank you very much."  He shook the professor's hand.
"I'm still not entirely sure what I'll be doing in the long term.
I thought I'd take the opportunity to travel this summer, and then
start looking for employment in the fall."

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Clark.  Just don't let those
writing skills get rusty."

"I won't, sir."

Just then a woman gestured to Professor Carlton to have him come
over to her.  The professor waved a friendly hand at Clark as he
dashed across the lawn to see what his wife wanted.

Lori and Tim appeared at Clark's side to say their good-byes.  Tim
was going on to graduate school to prepare for his ultimate career
as a psychotherapist, Lori was going out into the workforce with
an entry level position at a private company's library in Kansas
City.

                    *****

Metropolis, New Troy -- June 1988
*********************************

Clark was visiting Lana on her home turf after celebrating his
graduation.  He had assumed they would discuss their wedding
plans, but Lana had other ideas.

He and Lana discussed their earlier promise to get engaged and
married right after they had graduated.  After a lengthy debate,
they finally decided that the decision to marry immediately after
college was a naive one made in their innocent teens.  They both
needed to wait before committing themselves to a lifelong
relationship.

Lana insisted she wanted to develop her career in television
before settling down.  Clark agreed and told her he needed to
travel and explore to find out if there was anyone else like him
out there.   Lana was willing to let him get all that out of his
system before they decided to spend the rest of their lives
together.

Clark stayed in the United States for the next few months, so that
he could vote for the first time in a Presidential election.  He
travelled the length and breadth of the country by train, trying
to get a feel for the country he had grown up in.

That fall Charlton Heston became President of the United States.
It seemed odd to not have President Presley in charge.

                    *****

******************************
Margaret Brignell
brignell@capitalnet.com
Ottawa, Canada
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
My fanfic now available at:
http://www.capitalnet.com/~brignell/
******************************
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 22 May 1998 21:46:48 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Margaret Brignell <brignell@CAPITALNET.COM>
Subject:      New Fanfic:  Only You:  Promise -- Part 9 of 10
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

London - June, 1990
*******************

Since Christmas of 1988, Clark had travelled the globe.  At first
he had travelled by conventional means; however, he soon found
that even with his newfound income, he couldn't afford to keep
doing that.  He decided to save on airfare.

Clark loved to fly, but he knew it upset Lana since it risked his
being caught and put under a microscope.  As a result, every time
he flew under his own power, he felt guilty beyond words.  But,
all the same, he loved to travel to exotic places.  He liked
meeting new people and discovering new things.

Clark had flown into Metropolis to visit Lana last week only to
find that she was going out with someone else.  He wasn't sure
what exactly this meant, but it came as a shock, nevertheless.

Lana had explained, "I'm not ready to get married, Clark.  Please,
understand.  You're the only boyfriend I've ever had.  I think we
*both* need to find out if we really want to be with each other."

Clark agreed, reluctantly.  Nevertheless, he had serious
misgivings about the whole idea.

Meanwhile, his travels throughout the world were not adding to his
knowledge about his origins.  He had not, yet, found anyone even
remotely like himself and he was now pretty sure by now that he
wouldn't.

He continued to try to help people the best he could.  Last month,
here in London, he had rescued a woman who had been attacked and
severely beaten by a purse snatcher.  The ambulance had taken her
to the