From: "L-Soft list server at Indiana University (1.8d)" To: "ARTF@MemoryAlpha.nil" File: "LOISCLA-GENERAL-L LOG9901C" ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 00:05:37 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Karen Ward Subject: Re: Names for Characters In-Reply-To: Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" >Do certain names "say" evil to you, or good to you as you write? Are there >certain characteristics that we have unconsciously assigned to different >names? I mean, what do you think of when you hear "Gabriel"? Angelic? Or >"Jake"? Is he a rakish (and not because it rhymes!) man? Is Benny (not >Benjamin) destined to be a mobster? LOL! I just couldn't stay silent when I saw this. It just so happens that two of the villains in my fic "Tomorrow's Past" are named Jake and Benny. Apparently, certain names do "say" evil to me. ;) Karen :) aka KamikazeKaren 'cause she's suicidal on skis ;) ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 03:47:10 PST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Sue Modolo Subject: Don't Tag on Superman's Cape Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain Can someone who maybe has the script from DToSC post the dialogue between Sm and LL when they are in the cage and he says he won't be able to touch her or something that effect. Thanks. ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 03:49:25 PST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Sue Modolo Subject: Farm Boy/City Girl Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain I wonder if someone can help me out - In many of the fan fictions I have read, L&C refer to each other as Farm Boy and City Girl. Is that something that started in the fanfic, or on the show. If it was on the show, does anyone know in which ep it started. Thanks. ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 08:46:44 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: No Name Available Subject: Re: Farm Boy/City Girl Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit In a message dated 99-01-15 07:17:56 EST, smodolo@HOTMAIL.COM writes: << If it was on the show, does anyone know in which ep it started. >> In the pilot, Lois said, " Don't fall for me farm boy. I don't have time for it." I dont' think Clark ever called her City Girl on the show. --Laurie ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 09:51:50 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Joy N Sowell Subject: Re: Things that don't make sense Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii ****** I'm so jealous; I miss calm, warm weather. In northern Virginia we are from suffering power outages, slippery roads, and ice ladden windshields. If I cross my fingers, we may see a high near 40. That would not be so bad if this latest cold snap had not cancelled my riding lesson. Hey, it's only 65 more days till Spring, not that I'm counting. :) ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 07:33:36 PST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Robert Bergeron Subject: Re: Things that don't make sense, part ?? Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain >Date: Thu, 14 Jan 1999 16:40:04 EST >Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" > >From: "Ann E. McBride" >Subject: Re: Things that don't make sense, part ?? >To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU > > >Just a small question-- is Dean Cain left-handed? There are a number of >scenes in various episodes where he is using his left hand (eating, catching, >throwing, etc.) and will change hands, almost as if he has realized he's using >the wrong hand. > >Ann Maybe Superman is ambidextrous? :-) Rob ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 10:35:49 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Charlotte Fisler Subject: Re: Things that don't make sense Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit In a message dated 1/12/99 2:12:22 PM !!!First Boot!!!, carvalho@LEXMARK.COM writes: << hink Clark should be less clothed on this scene and have his hair tousled and without his glasses. What do you think? >> Need you ask? Come on which one of us wouldn't want Dean less clothed? Who cares about the plot. Charlotte P.S. I am way behind in my e-mail. I hope to catch up soon. Apologies to anyone who might have already written what I do. ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 10:35:28 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Charlotte Fisler Subject: Re: Krytonians learning English Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit In a message dated 1/12/99 4:23:23 AM !!!First Boot!!!, kathyb@FGI.NET writes: << I agree completely. I think they are equally intelligent, and are both in the top small-% of the population -- highly intelligent, but still within "normal" human parameters, Lois and Clark *both*. Kathy >> YES!!! Who needs a superintelligent Superman - Siegel & Shuster didn't envision him that way and neither do I. Charlotte ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 11:27:55 -0500 Reply-To: bird@sentex.net Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: The Bird & I Company Subject: Re: Things that don't make sense MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit > > << hink Clark should be less clothed on this scene and > have his hair tousled and without his glasses. What do you think? > >> > Need you ask? Come on which one of us wouldn't want Dean less clothed? Who > cares about the plot. > > Charlotte > Hear! Hear! Am 100% with you there! Sue > ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 14 Jan 1999 11:44:37 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: EmmyRose Subject: Re: Fan Fictionn, Toronto, etc MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Demi wrote: <> So my next question is: Are we going to make this happen? I'd be willing to organize a one-day "OFF" if there's a good response. If you're interested, email me privately and I'll take it from there. emmyrose@sprint.ca (new email address for me, you can chuck the old one) Torontonianly Yours, Tanya "EmmyRose" ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 12:44:35 -0600 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Kathy Brown Subject: Re: Farm Boy/City Girl In-Reply-To: <95c596e.369f46c4@aol.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 8:46 AM -0500 1/15/99, No Name Available wrote: >In a message dated 99-01-15 07:17:56 EST, smodolo@HOTMAIL.COM writes: > ><< If it was on the show, does anyone know in which ep it > started. >> > >In the pilot, Lois said, " Don't fall for me farm boy. I don't have time for >it." > >I dont' think Clark ever called her City Girl on the show. This is correct. This line from the Pilot is the only time Lois has ever called Clark "farmboy", but it has appeared in fanfic many times. "City girl" is a fanfic creation. That term was never used on the show. Kathy ______________________ Kathy Brown kathyb@springnet1.com OR kathyb@fgi.net http://userweb.springnet1.com/kathyb/ KathyB on IRC ______________________ ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 20:00:23 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: No Name Available Subject: Re: Farm Boy/City Girl Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit In a message dated 99-01-15 13:44:08 EST, kathyb@FGI.NET writes: << >In the pilot, Lois said, " Don't fall for me farm boy. I don't have time for >it." > >I dont' think Clark ever called her City Girl on the show. This is correct. This line from the Pilot is the only time Lois has ever called Clark "farmboy", but it has appeared in fanfic many times. "City girl" is a fanfic creation. That term was never used on the show. >> YES!! My memory was confirmed by Kathy!!! Way cool!!! ;) (Of course it did help that the pilot was on recently on TNT ) --Laurie ========================================================================= Date: Sat, 16 Jan 1999 00:43:03 -0000 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: LabRat Subject: Re: Names for Characters MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit -----Original Message----- From: K.M. de Castro To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU Date: 15 January 1999 02:30 Subject: Re: Names for Characters >Labrat wrote: > ><< Malcolm was clearly supposed to be a > Joseph. Hours of muttering later as I continually typed in the wrong name > for the wrong guy I finally had to accept the inevitable - Malcom just > didn't *want* to be called Joseph. >> > >Okay, I'm still sifting through scads of mail here, so this may have been >addressed already: > >Do certain names "say" evil to you, or good to you as you write? Are there >certain characteristics that we have unconsciously assigned to different >names? I mean, what do you think of when you hear "Gabriel"? Angelic? Or >"Jake"? Is he a rakish (and not because it rhymes!) man? Is Benny (not >Benjamin) destined to be a mobster? Is "Jaime" gonna be a tomboy? Or for that >matter, what about Sam(antha), Jo(sephine), and Billy (Wilhelmina!)? > > >Hmmm.... >Marie, >ChoirGirl2@aol.com >(who sings Second Soprano at her Church...) Can't say, personally, that I ever really attribute good or evil to a character in this way myself, Marie. Once I name them they seem to leap into the frame as a complete package and I suppose whether they're villains or not is mixed in among the mess. And they can change sides too along the way, I have to add. Just to be irksome. In CF, I had in mind originally that Evangelist, Dale Karvin was the villain of the piece, but he wormed his way into my sympathies pretty quickly and I realized that he was just weak willed and had kind of lost his way after the death of his wife, rather than being genuinely bad. So I let him off the hook. In the past the good guys have had a habit of dying on me unexpectedly too - which is somewhat disconcerting when I thought they were heading for the sunrise and happy ever after. LabRat :) ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 20:13:05 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: "Eileen F. Ray" Subject: L&C Fanfic Writing Session January 16, 1999 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit Hi Everyone, We hope you'll be able to join us Saturday, January 16.1999, for our fanfic writing session. This week's premise: So far Morgan Edge the Daily Planet's smarmy L.A. Bureau chief temporarily helping out in Metropolis has been little more than a minor annoyance to Lois and Clark, but that changes suddenly when Perry decides to spend some quality time with Alice and Edge is left in charge of the newsroom. With Edge in control there are big changes in store for the DP and for hottest team in town, and is there a sinister motive behind his actions? ;) We would still like to hear from you if you have any story premises of your own that you would like us to explore together. You can either email them to me at: eraygun@aol.com Or better still, just bring your ideas with you when you join us this Saturday or for our weekly "story bouncing" sessions on Wednesdays on #L&CFicOrg, starting around 9:00 PM EDT. We generally meet Saturdays starting at 3 PM EDT and try to start writing fairly soon thereafter. You can come and join the fun at any time, however. We are usually there for several hours since writing a story takes time. Since #L&CFanfic is on occasion "invite only" please message if you want to join us. If an official "inviter" is designated, we will let you know. Some of us should be hanging out on #Loiscla. A note on procedure here ;) : When people need to be caught up on the story in progress after being bounced off IRC or just joining the session late, please try and avoid pasting the story directly into the channel window. Please do that in a private message or dcc-chat window instead. Hope to see you all there! Cheers, Eileen Eraygun@aol.com ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 20:35:18 -0600 Reply-To: mfwillia@flash.net Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: WILLIAMS Organization: THE SKYWATCHER Subject: Re: Krytonians learning English MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Joy N Sowell wrote: > > It was a good episode. The kids were intelligent already, but only "SMART, > smart" after taking the metamide 5. Wouldn't their usual IQ be measurable? > Besides, does anyone know how reliable those tests are anyway? I'd be > interested in being retested. :) Yes, the vast majority of geniuses have measurable I.Q. The measurements are pretty accurate. However, some take exception to them because they only measure a couple aspects of intelligence, and it is known (I don't remember exactly how many) there are about 50 aspects unmeasured. After 135 increased numbers do not mean as much as creativity. Many people with high I.Q. have a larger than average amount of creativity and that helps them to do even more with what they have got. Most educators will tell you after 135 creativity is more important than additional I.Q. points. Those without it can (and have) wound up doing common work, e.g., in the post office. There are a lot of "dumb" people paying "smart" people to work for them. So not being a genius doesn't make you a failure. If you really want to raise your score, on this or any other test, study how to take the test. Being prepared is half the battle. Jacqueline ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 20:39:08 -0600 Reply-To: mfwillia@flash.net Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: WILLIAMS Organization: THE SKYWATCHER Subject: Re: Krytonians learning English MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Kathy Brown wrote: > > At 6:24 AM -0500 1/12/99, The Zoomway wrote: > > >he could have been fluent in a few of the major > >languages, but only have a knowledge of "greetings" and "ordering dinner" in > >the others ;) > > Thanks Zoom; this is exactly what I was trying to say, but didn't put it > nearly so succiently. I'd even go so far as to say that Clark was > fluent in *several* or *many* of the major languages. But as for the 347, > I think once you hit the major languages, there are many dialects that kind > of fall into place. Not all, of course, but many. > > On vacation, my husband and I and another couple spent 2 weeks in Italy > several years ago. None of us spoke a word of Italian, but 3 of us had > taken French in college and the other was semi-fluent in German. We did > just fine, including greetings and ordering dinner. We certainly > couldn't read a newspaper, but when it came time to look at a menu, we > could pick out main categories, with only minor help from the Berlitz book > ... "beef", "chicken", "fish", "salad". Also, French was helpful when > getting directions ... it amazed us how we could understand directions in > Italian -- the major terms when combined with hand gestures -- by knowing > French. > > Of course, then there was our friend who decided he must be genetically > programed to understand German because he was of German descent -- "Hey, I > understood that woman when she spoke German and I've never taken it!!" > "Todd, she said 'Vas is dat?'" Oy. ;) > > Kathh (who won't get into our reaction in one Italian restaurant when the > waitress encouraged us to get the "fish" ("fish, you'll like!") and then > put down a plate full of what looked like starfish in front of us. > Actually, it turned out to be cuttlefish, which we had never heard of > before. Once we got over our squeamishness and decided to try it, we all > agreed it was one of the best meals we'd had all vacation. :)) > > ______________________ > Kathy Brown > kathyb@springnet1.com OR kathyb@fgi.net > http://userweb.springnet1.com/kathyb/ > KathyB on IRC > ______________________ My sister took a year of French when I was finishing 3rd year Spanish. She was really surprised to find I could read more French than she could because romance languages are so close. Jacqueline ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1999 22:56:53 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: "Ann E. McBride" Subject: Re: Don't Tag on Superman's Cape Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit I believe that Clark/Superman says to Lois, " I wish I could touch you." She responds, "Well, you can, with your words. " She then goes on about how part of him always made sense to her, even when a large part did not. "That's the part that touches me." Hope this helps. Ann ========================================================================= Date: Sat, 16 Jan 1999 08:42:43 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Cassie Neil Subject: Wordsearch Again MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Sorry to post this again but I like to share ! Anyone who still needs the LnC wordsearch I found in a chessy TV puzzle book please let me know and this time I will wait about a week for all responsive to get to me before I bulk mail. Thanks ~~~~Gotta Fly ~~~~~~~~~~CASSIE~~~~~~~~~~~~ SuperCAS or KryptnCAS JnC57@Juno.com & JnC57@Bauercom.ent I'm on ICQ are you? ========================================================================= Date: Sat, 16 Jan 1999 12:20:58 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: "Juli E. Hale" Subject: Off-topic: Beauty and the Beast tapes Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit Hi, everyone! I know this request seems inappropriate for this list, but I couldn't help but notice some of you mentioning you were also fans of 'Beauty and the Beast.' I was just a kid when that series was on the air, but fell in love with it just like I did 'Lois and Clark' years later. Anyway, to the point: Is there anyone out there who would take it upon themselves to make me copies of their videos of BATB? I would gladly send blank tapes and pay you for your trouble. If you're interested, please e-mail me privately. Thanks, Juli :) (who for some reason is desparate to see a tv show that she hasn't seen in close to ten years--go figure :) JuliHale@aol.com ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 06:25:17 PST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Sue Modolo Subject: The Last Time I saw Elvis Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain Well, today is the day. I can hardly wait. My stove died a month ago and I have been feverishly trying to find another one. They deliver it tomorrow and I have a house to clean in the meantime. So when I get my house done, it will be great to be able to catch up on oura favourite couple. So Martha had a past, hmmmmmmmmmm. Well as she said in to Clark in THE HEIR - BEHIND CLOSED DOORS - "And you two think you invented sex" LOL Well, if she was really mugged then, I don't want to be the mugger with Superman/Clark or Jonathan around, if you know what I mean LOL ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 15:01:11 +0000 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Jenny Mills Subject: Re: New Fanfic - Auld Acquaintance In-Reply-To: <6cbeaba5.369c5e13@aol.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Gang Thanks so much for this New Year Round Robin - I'm from South of the Border, so I'll not get into the 'Hogmanay gifts' thing; but it was a very neat story, with a lot of L&C feeling about it. Nice to see Dom is still about (Hi Dom, I've missed you) - and kudos to all involved; I loved it Cheers, and A Good New Year (I'll dispense with the accent) Jenny ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 15:09:51 +0000 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Jenny Mills Subject: Re: Toronto In-Reply-To: <000e01be40a5$1a8bbea0$6e9194d1@default> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Hi Torontoarians Wanted to know how you are all coping in the dreadful weather you are (reportedly) currently 'enjoying' - I have spent New Year in Ontario, so I do know what 'cold' means there!! Anyway - thinking of you all Jenny At 11:44 14/01/99 -0500, you wrote: >Demi wrote: > ><held in TO. :) I think this is sort of neat, we're seeing a lot more >Toronto area FoLCs come out of the woodwork lately, I remember when it was >just lil' ole me for all those years...*sniff* ;)>> > >So my next question is: Are we going to make this happen? I'd be willing >to organize a one-day "OFF" if there's a good response. If you're >interested, email me privately and I'll take it from there. > >emmyrose@sprint.ca > >(new email address for me, you can chuck the old one) > > >Torontonianly Yours, > >Tanya "EmmyRose" > ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 21:19:14 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Fatboy Subject: Re: TV show MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Hey It probably is strange that we are all fans of a show that hasn't been seen (except for repeats that is) but hey, each to their own. I always thought it was a great show and I watch all the re-runs that are on. Currently, they are on the terrestrial TV on Saturday mornings and on the cable network on Saturday and Sunday afternoons, so you can get quite a fix if you want to. Speak to you soon Eileen -----Original Message----- From: Kristen To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU Date: 10 January 1999 09:17 Subject: TV show >Hey, I was just wondering if all you fellow fanfic-ers think that it's strange >that we are all still obsessed with this one TV show that hasn't actually been >on for almost 2 years. I mean, I'm just obsessed as the next guy/girl, but >still, what other TV show has these kind of fans, all other shows that get >canceled are usually just forgotten about. So, just out of curiousity do you >think it's strange that we are all like this? > >Kristen >Kristen036@aol.com > ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 21:20:23 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Fatboy Subject: Re: TAN: Surnames, etc. MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Hey you lot, you should have a surname like mine (Barnard) that always gets changed to barnyard and I live in London, miles from the countryside, with not a rooster in sight! Eileen -----Original Message----- From: trish To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU Date: 09 January 1999 17:35 Subject: Re: TAN: Surnames, etc. >Well, I like this thread so I thought I'd join in :) > >I have a polish surname, Rosowski (ski meaning 'son of' and roso meaning >'rose') and translated down it means that the name was probably derived >>from someone that worked in or near a garden . >I have people spell my name wrong constantly, even after I tell them how to >say it (Ross-ovf-ski). I have had people say Rozouwski, Rozosky, one of the >nurses when my mother was in hospital called her 'Mrs Rozzowhiskey' (LOL), >and it is so funny because at my work when they need to call me over the >p.a they usually just say Tricia or Tricia Rose. >My grade six teacher tried particularly hard to get all the surnames of the >students right on graduation day (and made a special point of saying mine >because my mother kept correcting him all the time!!) but he had a more >troublesome name than mine to pronounce -- one of the girls in my class >has the longest name I have ever seen: Sutharshini Kamaleswaran (which is >pronounced for those wondering 'Sudthasheeny Camelezvaran') and takes a bif >of practice to get your tongue around :) >I like my surname because it is pretty unique where I live (there is only >one person in the phone book that isn't related to me) and gives me some >insight into my past (something I have almost no knowledge of and it is >really starting to interest me) although I am sure I will be happy to trade >it in when the time comes..... mmmm (I'm thinking 'Tricia Louise Banks' >sounds nice -- in my dreams! LOL) > >trish > >trish-r@bigfoot.com > >"If equal affection cannot be, >let the more loving one be me" > ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 21:23:52 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Fatboy Subject: Re: TV show MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Dear desert Rat, Just writing to tell you that you have great taste and if you wanna have a chat about Red dwarf then just Email me Paul -----Original Message----- From: Desert Rat To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU Date: 10 January 1999 14:25 Subject: Re: TV show >Who are you calling obsessed? Just because I record each episode of L&C, >watch each tape a few dozen times a week you think we're obsessed. Okay >maybe we are. Wow, what a concept... I have to think about this one. But I >do have to put my vote in for RED DWARF. >By the way, is there a better search word for revelation stories in the >archive, other than "revelation"? >-----Original Message----- >From: LabRat >To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU > >Date: Sunday, January 10, 1999 2:18 PM >Subject: Re: TV show > > >>>Hey, I was just wondering if all you fellow fanfic-ers think that it's >>strange >>>that we are all still obsessed with this one TV show that hasn't actually >>been >>>on for almost 2 years. I mean, I'm just obsessed as the next guy/girl, >but >>>still, what other TV show has these kind of fans, all other shows that get >>>canceled are usually just forgotten about. So, just out of curiousity do >>you >>>think it's strange that we are all like this? >>> >>>Kristen >>>Kristen036@aol.com >> >>Actually, I don't think it's unusual at all, Kristen. There are still >active >>fans for two SF/Fantasy shows this end of the Pond which have been gone for >>over a decade: Blake's 7 and Robin of Sherwood. Conventions are still held, >>fanzines written, websites abound. I can think of more thriving fandoms for >>long cancelled shows consigned to the mists of TV archives in the US than I >>could name here. The truth is quality and imagination never die. I've been >>privileged to be taken to more worlds of the imagination than I can count >in >>20 years of my interest in TV SF/Fantasy and none of them have died in my >>heart. That I'm not alone in remembering the Golden Ages gives me hope for >>the world, to be honest. >> >>LabRat :) >> > ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 21:24:52 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Fatboy Subject: Re: TV show MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit You have our vote for Red Dwarf as well. If you want to chat then Email us. Paul -----Original Message----- From: Gillian B Tanz To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU Date: 10 January 1999 14:48 Subject: Re: TV show >Unless I'm mistaken, there's a whole genre section of the archive >dedicated to revelations. In fact, isn't there a Revelations 1 and >Revelations 2? Just check out the search by Genre section :) >-Jill- >(hoping she's given good advice) >~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ >Mark: "Scherzavo. Volevo solo vedere se lei capiva il mio italiano." >Commesso: "Capisce la parola *fuori*?" >Mark: "I was only kidding. I wanted to see if you understood my >Italian." >Commesso: "Do you understand the word *out*?" > >PS: >In my Italian book (Learn Italian The Fast and Fun Way), next to the word >for "to get dressed" is a man opening his shirt to reveal a red Superman >S on a blue tank top! How COOL is that!? > >On Sun, 10 Jan 1999 15:15:21 -0700 Desert Rat >writes: >>Who are you calling obsessed? Just because I record each episode of >>L&C, >>watch each tape a few dozen times a week you think we're obsessed. >>Okay >>maybe we are. Wow, what a concept... I have to think about this one. >>But I >>do have to put my vote in for RED DWARF. >>By the way, is there a better search word for revelation stories in >>the >>archive, other than "revelation"? >>-----Original Message----- >>From: LabRat >>To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU >> >>Date: Sunday, January 10, 1999 2:18 PM >>Subject: Re: TV show >> >> >>>>Hey, I was just wondering if all you fellow fanfic-ers think that >>it's >>>strange >>>>that we are all still obsessed with this one TV show that hasn't >>actually >>>been >>>>on for almost 2 years. I mean, I'm just obsessed as the next >>guy/girl, >>but >>>>still, what other TV show has these kind of fans, all other shows >>that get >>>>canceled are usually just forgotten about. So, just out of >>curiousity do >>>you >>>>think it's strange that we are all like this? >>>> >>>>Kristen >>>>Kristen036@aol.com >>> >>>Actually, I don't think it's unusual at all, Kristen. There are still >>active >>>fans for two SF/Fantasy shows this end of the Pond which have been >>gone for >>>over a decade: Blake's 7 and Robin of Sherwood. Conventions are still >>held, >>>fanzines written, websites abound. I can think of more thriving >>fandoms for >>>long cancelled shows consigned to the mists of TV archives in the US >>than I >>>could name here. The truth is quality and imagination never die. I've >>been >>>privileged to be taken to more worlds of the imagination than I can >>count >>in >>>20 years of my interest in TV SF/Fantasy and none of them have died >>in my >>>heart. That I'm not alone in remembering the Golden Ages gives me >>hope for >>>the world, to be honest. >>> >>>LabRat :) >>> >> > ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 21:25:50 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Fatboy Subject: Re: TV show Comments: To: bird@sentex.net MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit I have the same fantasy, but only if Dean Cain and Teri Hatcher are in the title roles. I'm sorry I just can't picture Nicholas Cage in tights and a cape! Eileen -----Original Message----- From: The Bird & I Company To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU Date: 10 January 1999 15:26 Subject: Re: TV show >Obsessed huh? I might be a late convert to L&C but I think I'm quite >happy being obsessed! Think I had more fun now in my obsessed days then >I had before! > >Oh yes, other shows do have a great following still....like Star >Trek...must confess, I have been a Trekkie for years...guess some shows >really touch the imagination of people and they just live on > >Always have this private fantasy that someone out there will realise how >great L&C was and do a movie version, like they did for Star Trek! > >Sue > ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 21:33:47 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Fatboy Subject: Re: Things that don't make sense MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit I agree, it was unreal, I don't know of any guy who can recover that quickly and dress himself, all in the space of what seemed like seconds, if the storyline is anything to go by. But then anything to get a better look at Dean's body! Eileen -----Original Message----- From: Celia Carvalho To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU Date: 12 January 1999 06:09 Subject: Things that don't make sense >Ann (Aerm1@aol.com) wrote: > >>I do have one question. In "Never Ending Battle" why does it take him so long >>to change clothes in the men's room? The guy on the roof could have fallen >>off before he got there. > >I really don't know the answer to this question. Some things sometimes don't >make much sense to the viewer. This is a problem of the people who wrote the >stories, I think. > >Here's some more questions: > >1) Why didn't Clark figured out that he was marrying to a clone instead of Lois? >Why did he take so long to see that? I mean, Lois figured immediately out that >it wasn't Superman kissing her when his clone did. I hated to see Clark kissing >the "frog" without realizing it wasn't his Lois. I know he *is* more sensite and >intelligent as that. Well, to be honest, I didn't like these eps much. And the >episode when they actually married wasn't one of my favorites either. I think >they could have done a better job with it, as Debby Stark did with her 5 >alternate stories on this subject. You have to read it if you haven't done it >yet. > >2) And another thing didn't felt/look very right in one of the episodes where >Vixen character appeared (sorry, I don't remember which one rightnow!). It's >right at the beginning of the episode, and L&C are both sprawled on the >kitchen's floor after making love before breakfast. For what Lois lets us know, >it was wonderful ("Oh Clark, if you only knew just how different you are from >other men" - sorry if these weren't exactly her words). I know Supes can be very >fast, but to have him fully clothed and ready to go to work after such a moment >didn't look right to me. I think Clark should be less clothed on this scene and >have his hair tousled and without his glasses. What do you think? > >Celia >carvalho@lexmark.com > ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 21:53:04 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Fatboy Subject: Re: [Re: Things that don't make sense] MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Yeah I really wondered that as well, though I always assumed that Superman could hold his bodily fluids as it is mentioned in one episode that he doesn't have to eat or drink but likes to. As for Lois, I like to think that there was a little part of the floor that slid back to reveal a toilet but maybe my imagination is just running away with itself! Eileen -----Original Message----- From: Sheila Harper To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU Date: 13 January 1999 19:21 Subject: Re: [Re: Things that don't make sense] >At 03:59 PM 1/13/99 MST, DEBRA GRAY wrote: >>In DToSC, Jonathan Frakes >>tells Sman & Lois that they'll talk about their feeding schedule later. >>Always made me wonder (since there were no little tiny toilets in those >>cages) about hygiene... Also, it'd be >>awfully hard to keep Superman confined *all* the time. > >>Yeah they WERE pretty stupid, even if he WAS First Officer on the Enterprise. >>G. Maybe they figured that Superman didn't have to worry about bodily >>functions. And Lois? Well, maybe they thought they could just escort her. > >Except that the only thing that kept Superman in his cage was the threat of >Lois being blown up if he came in contact with either his or her forcefield. >The instant they escorted her out of that cage, Superman would have been free. > >Yeah, *really* dumb villains :) but I liked the whole L&C interaction in >that episode so much that I didn't care. > >Sheila >sharper@cncc.cc.co.us > ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 22:08:14 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Fatboy Subject: Re: Farm Boy/City Girl MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit I don't know but I really would like to know as well. Eileen -----Original Message----- From: Sue Modolo To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU Date: 15 January 1999 04:16 Subject: Farm Boy/City Girl >I wonder if someone can help me out - > >In many of the fan fictions I have read, L&C refer to each other as Farm >Boy and City Girl. Is that something that started in the fanfic, or on >the show. If it was on the show, does anyone know in which ep it >started. > >Thanks. > >______________________________________________________ >Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com > ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 22:09:21 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Fatboy Subject: Re: Things that don't make sense, part ?? MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit I think that he is ambidextrous! Eileen -----Original Message----- From: Robert Bergeron To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU Date: 15 January 1999 07:33 Subject: Re: Things that don't make sense, part ?? >>Date: Thu, 14 Jan 1999 16:40:04 EST >>Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" >> >>From: "Ann E. McBride" >>Subject: Re: Things that don't make sense, part ?? >>To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU >> >> >>Just a small question-- is Dean Cain left-handed? There are a number >of >>scenes in various episodes where he is using his left hand (eating, >catching, >>throwing, etc.) and will change hands, almost as if he has realized >he's using >>the wrong hand. >> >>Ann > >Maybe Superman is ambidextrous? :-) > >Rob > >______________________________________________________ >Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com > ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 17:10:57 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Genine Murray Subject: N-Fic? Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit Hello FoLCs, :-) I would like to know who I can contact to be added to the N-Fic list ... if it still even exists that is. I belonged to it briefly about a year ago, but since I've switched to AOL I haven't been able to find the address to write to in order to join. Would the person who is in charge of this please contact me, or else could someone on this list let me know how I could get in contact with them? I *am* over 18 BTW, just turning 19 in a few days in fact. ;) One more question regarding N-Fic. How do I go about getting the password, etc., to access N-Fic online? It's been a while since I've dealt with anything N-Fic, can ya tell? Thanks in advance for any help. Take care FoLCs! :-) Genine SuperGem4@aol.com ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 17:02:24 -0600 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Kathy Brown Subject: S6, Ep4, The Last Time I Saw Elvis, part 1/8 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" "Lois & Clark", Season 6 .... episode 4 THE LAST TIME I SAW ELVIS by CC Malo (edited by Laurie Farber and Lynda Love) Original Air Date: January 17, 1999 * * * * * Metropolis is a city of many cities. The daytime city swarms with workers chasing deadlines, tourists attacking "must see" lists, and cabs racing to appointments. The nighttime city, smelling of fast food and alive with club-goers, theatre-goers, and movie-goers, pulses with music and staccato energy. Night and day, the street city is always open for business, a place where rendezvous are kept, deals done, and desperate lives led. Isolated from all this is a remote sky city, inhabited by the wealthy, aloof in their penthouses and corner offices high above the ordinary Metropolite. And there is also a subterranean city of people who are lost or trying to escape. Sometimes these cities sprawl into each other and boundaries blur. On a Thursday night in January, knife sharp with the cold, two men, one of them middle aged and grey and the other younger, bulky and tall, walked west along a darkened side street, its pavement dusted with a light cover of new snow. Both men huddled against the wind, the older one managing successfully to light a cigarette with the skill of one who has had years of practice outside. Neither spoke as they continued walking along the mostly deserted street. When they reached the intersection, they crossed into the bright lights and traffic of one of Metropolis's main streets, its sidewalks lined with not quite fashionable restaurants, movie theatres, clubs, and businesses of a more dubious nature. Slowing their pace, the two men turned and walked north, beginning a conversation in which they were soon absorbed. In the section of town from which these men had just come, the darkness of one small part of the subterranean city had just been penetrated by an interloper on an errand of mercy, the brightness of the primary colors he wore incongruous in this dank, dark setting. In a blur, he raced towards a far corner in the cavernous tunnel where his extraordinary vision had spotted two people who were sleeping, huddled into the warmth of their bundled possessions. If not for his awareness of the danger of gas fumes in the area, he would have hesitated to disturb them. Carefully nudging them awake, he encircled each person in one arm, and half flew, half ran to the exit of the tunnel and then up to the crisp air on the surface. Gently, as though he were carrying something precious, he let each person go. "Are you okay?" his soft voice revealed his concern as he looked at them, searching for signs of harm. The reply was belligerent. "What did ya do that for? We was asleep." "You might not have been for very long." A young paramedic, the stubble on his face an indicator of the long hours he'd put in, approached the trio. "There's been a gas leak and we're evacuating the area until it's fixed. Superman's making sure we haven't missed anyone." Calmly, he took the arm of one of the two people and escorted her to the nearby emergency vehicle. Her companion followed. "If you don't mind," the paramedic said, "we'll check to make sure all traces of fumes are gone from your lungs and then we'll find you a place to stay for the night." Superman was already searching another part of the tunnel system. * * * Not far from the tunnels that Superman was searching, Martha and Jonathan Kent, accompanied by Perry and Alice White, sauntered out onto the sidewalk from "The Nostalgia", an old movie theatre specializing in film revivals. The foursome was clearly having a good time, laughing as they talked about the highlights of the old movie they had just seen. The film was "G.I. Blues", part of a retrospective screening of the films of Elvis Presley, a much under appreciated oeuvre according to Perry White. "Oeuvre?" Alice raised her eyebrows at the word. "That's right, darlin'. 'Oeuvre.' Been readin' the Arts section of the weekend edition." Perry swaggered a bit as he said this. "Must get them to do a piece on Elvis." "Now, why are his films so unappreciated, Perry?" Martha asked, mischief in her blue eyes. "Ah, well, you see, Elvis is what the South was like for us when we were kids," he drawled. "You know, small dusty towns, not much money, but good friends, great cars, all chrome and polish. And the music! Ah, the music. Great balls of fire! Nothin' like it since." Martha had started to reply, when Jonathan suddenly pushed against her left shoulder as he was jarred by a big, shabbily dressed man, oblivious to his surroundings as he argued with his companion. "Hey, man, watch where you're walkin'." Martha turned to look at the speaker and then her eyes caught the face of his companion, the harsh incandescence of street lights highlighting the ascetic angularity of his face. For a moment, their eyes met, puzzled and half aware, neither of them hearing the large man. Martha was speechless and then the two men quickly vanished into the crowd of people on the sidewalk. Shaken, Martha said, "That's not what I remember about the South." * * * Later, in a small bedroom in a townhouse many blocks north of the movie theatre, a sleepy Lois Lane was softly singing the lyrics of an old Stephen Foster melody which Perry White would have recognized. "For my darling, I love you and I always will." She made up some of the lyrics as she sang, her dark hair falling forward as she bent over the small bundle contentedly nursing at her breast. For that matter, Lois was contented too, absorbed in the very basic and pleasurable task which she was performing, fascinated by every small expression that fluttered across her baby's face. For a while, she babbled to her child, soft fragmented bits of nonsense about the wonders of the world, only stopping when Laura sputtered, her tiny mouth relaxing its determined grip on her mother's breast. Lois smiled; Laura had fallen asleep. Slowly rising from the old rocking chair in which she had been sitting, Lois carried her daughter to the crib and tucked her in for what she hoped would be a solid night's rest. Kissing her finger, she bent over the crib to touch Laura's cheek. "Good night, sweetie." For a moment, Lois leaned against the doorframe, gazing at her sleeping baby. Then, as she reached for the light switch, she felt her husband's arm slip around her waist and she turned her head slightly, smiling a greeting. Neither spoke as they stood for a moment in the darkness, watching their child. * * * * * The next day, the Kent household was up early, the rhythm of the morning determined by Laura's routine and the fact that both her parents would be going in to work. In the upper hall, Clark Kent carried his freshly bathed, diapered, clothed, fed, and burped daughter, holding her against his shoulder as she gurgled her thoughts about the upcoming day. Grinning, Clark looked at her. "Okay, sweetheart, whatever you say. Come on. Let's go say hello to your Grandma and Grandpa." Since returning from their travels, Martha and Jonathan Kent had once again, along with Ellen Lane, resumed their pattern of caring for Laura on those days when both Lois and Clark were at the Planet. Lately, the older couple had been at the townhouse more frequently, giving Ellen a chance to travel to Florida with three of her friends on a trip which had been planned back in the fall. Besides, after the stress of the court case, the very busy time that the Superman Foundation had faced over Christmas, and pressure from Sam Lane for a reconciliation, Ellen had needed the break. Whenever Martha and Jonathan took care of Laura, they came early so that Martha could make breakfast. Give everyone a more relaxed start to the day, she'd said. This morning, as Clark walked downstairs, he caught sight of his father, looking worried, as he headed into the kitchen. "Morning, Dad." "Uh, morning, son." Jonathan stopped in the middle of the hall, brightening as he looked at his grandchild. "She sure is a little beauty." "Yes, she is Dad," Clark said softly as he bounced Laura gently in his arms. Trailing his father into the kitchen, he noticed his mother pulling out all the stops to conjure up a regular farm breakfast. That confirmed it, he thought; something was wrong. His mother had his dad on a sensible, low fat diet which meant that the smell of bacon had been absent >from the Kent household since the older couple had come to help with Laura after Lois's return to work. "Morning, Mom," Clark said as he settled Laura into her carry-cot. Sitting down, he helped himself to one of the muffins that Martha had placed in the centre of the table and then turned to look at her. "How was the movie last night?" "The movie was fun, Clark. It was what happened after that wasn't much fun." Concerned, Clark stopped eating and looked at his mother again. "What was that?" "My wallet was stolen," Jonathan replied, still upset by his loss. "I reached into my pocket to pay for the coffee we had after the movie. Nothing. I figure it happened when we were leaving the movie when a couple of men bumped into us. Thought it was an accident at the time. Pickpockets." Sighing, he added, "Lucky your mother had enough cash to pay the bill." Clark nodded, knowing his father would never have dreamed of using a credit card to pay for something like dessert and coffee. Sure way to run up debt. "It's a real nuisance, Clark. Your father wasn't carrying much cash, but he's lost his driver's licence, his bank cards, his insurance cards. . ." Clark looked at his father in sympathy, feeling a twinge of regret that he hadn't been around at the time. "I'm sorry, Dad." "Thanks, son. It'll take a while to get replacements for the cards, but that's not the worst part." He sounded glum, his despondency reflected in the slump of his shoulders. "I thought I was pretty good at noticing what was going on around me." At that moment, Lois, shoeless and jacketless, but otherwise neat in a white blouse and charcoal grey slacks, appeared in the doorway. "What happened?" Martha repeated the story and then added. "So Jonathan's going to spend the morning on the phone to banks, insurance companies, and the Kansas Motor Vehicle Registry." "That's awful, Jonathan. Did you get a good look at the two men? Maybe the police have their photos on file." "No, I wasn't even looking at them when it happened. We were talking about the movie. All I remember is he was taller than me, big. I think Martha got a better look at them than I did." "Did you notice anything else, Mom?" Clark asked. Martha hesitated and then answered her son's question. "I was startled." Handing Lois a glass of milk, she changed the subject. "Here, Lois. How would you like your eggs?" "Thanks, Martha. Scrambled, please. You spoil us, you know." She gave Martha a quick smile. "But I still think Jonathan should report this to the police." Lois was not one to let something go. Martha murmured casually as she cooked Lois's breakfast, "I don't suppose there's much point. We won't see the wallet again." * * * Martha was wrong about that. Later that morning, some time after her son and daughter-in-law had left for work, she opened the front door to retrieve the morning mail. She was surprised to find, along with the usual mail, Jonathan's wallet. Everything was still there, even the cash. "I don't get it, Martha," Jonathan sounded confused as he checked the wallet's contents. "Why go to the trouble of stealing my wallet and then returning it? And how would he know to bring it here? It doesn't make sense." "I know, Jonathan." Puzzled, Martha frowned. "I wish I'd seen who brought this. I wonder if any of the neighbors noticed." She opened the hall closet to get her coat. "I think I'll just check." "You're wasting your time, Martha. Even if someone did see him, the police aren't going to follow this up. It's small stuff and these guys disappear back into the woodwork." "It'll satisfy my curiosity," Martha muttered as she opened the front door. As she crossed the road, she thought again about what had happened last night. Now she was sure whom she had seen and she was shaken by the knowledge. The funny thing was, it was the movie they'd seen that had brought him back to her mind. The last time she'd seen Elvis in a movie, it had been with him, her friend of that incredible summer, and it had been the same movie that she, Jonathan, Perry, and Alice had gone to last night. When the movie had first been released, her friend had disapproved of it and what it had stood for; but Martha had wanted to see Elvis and so the two of them had gone to see it, arguing and laughing afterwards about what they'd seen on the screen. Last night, she had remembered all this with a sense of sadness for that passionate young man for whom she had cared so much and who she thought was dead, killed in a fire that had engulfed a small town sheriff's office in 1962. She was shocked that she hadn't recognized him at first. But people change over the years and he was supposed to be dead. He must have recognized her too, at least later, when he'd seen Jonathan's name on the contents of the stolen wallet. It wasn't until she had tried the fourth neighbor, Mrs. Sarrazin, that Martha had some luck. The elderly lady had been sipping her morning tea at a small table in the front bay window when she had noticed a thin, silver haired man deposit something in the Kent mailbox. Always worried about possible burglars, she had fretted as she watched the shabbily dressed man approach the Kent front door. However, he left quickly, not stopping at any of the other houses on the street, and she had returned to her morning paper. For a while, the two women chatted about the Daily Planet and the latest article written by Martha's son and daughter-in-law, and then about the well being of the newest Kent. As she took her leave, Martha made up her mind. She was going to find him. She wanted to know what had happened. She was angry too; she had been deceived. Something that she had thought was finished, wasn't. But how was she going to find a man who didn't want to be found in a city the size of Metropolis? * * * Clark felt Lois's eyes on him as he worked at his computer on a follow up to the story of last night's gas leak. He tried to suppress a smile as he decided not to give her the satisfaction of knowing that he had picked up her signal, wondering how long she would keep her eye on him before speaking. He checked the time on his computer terminal. Thirty seconds exactly before he heard her voice. Swiveling in his chair, he grinned at her, stretching his hands up behind his neck. "Yes, Ms. Lane? Need my help?" "Not likely!" was the instant response. "Ah," he said and turned back to his computer. "Clark." "So you do need my help." Placing his left elbow on his desk, he rested his chin between his thumb and index finger and, raising his eyebrows, gave her his full attention again. "No. Be serious, Clark." He sighed, "Okay. So?" He sat back in his chair and looked at her. "Your mother. Didn't you think it was strange?" "Pardon?" Now he was mystified. However, just as he was about to question her further, Perry stopped by his desk, half sitting on its edge for a moment. "How's Jonathan this morning, Clark?" "He's okay, I think. Still a bit upset." "Damned nuisance. No way to wrap up a great evening." Perry's voice was gruff. "Did you get a look at the men who did it, Perry?" Lois asked. "No chance, Lois. Whole thing happened so quickly. Martha was real startled by it all -- seemed to freeze for a moment, there. Nasty experience for your folks. Always hate it when people from out of town get mugged." Perry spoke with gruff sympathy, then got up and walked across the huge newsroom to the work station of the Planet's top financial reporter. "See," Lois hissed across the space that separated their desks. "See what?" "Your mother. Something happened last night." "Yeah, my dad got mugged." "Besides that." "And that would be?" "I don't know." "Ah," he said, enlightenment suffusing his face. "That explains it." "Clark, I think. . ." Lois didn't get a chance to finish as she noticed a familiar look cross his face. "Uh, can we continue this later, Lois?" Clark stood up abruptly, tugging at his tie as he walked toward the stairwell. Lois rolled her eyes and sighed. * * * Martha spent the rest of the morning occupied with the mundane tasks of domesticity. Over the years she had come to find a type of serenity from the repetition of familiar tasks, believing that it was possible to find a sense of calm in the simplicity of these actions. Besides, doing chores had always given her time to think about any challenges she was currently facing, plan a new sculpture or letters to the editor, or contemplate problems facing her friends and family. Usually, by the time the laundry was done or dinner prepared, she had formulated some plan of action. Sometimes, her plan was to do nothing, but that was not the case this morning. She made a decision that she would pursue this on her own, without telling Jonathan. This decision troubled her somewhat; she and Jonathan didn't keep secrets from each other, at least, not things like this. But she was worried about his health, and this last year he hadn't seemed to handle stress as well as he had in the past. She pushed away the thought that she was rationalizing and that maybe, for now, she wanted to keep this >from him. Anyway, after over thirty years of marriage, she knew Jonathan pretty well. Although usually supportive, he was also, in a quiet and stubborn way, very protective of his family. Clark was like that, too, she thought. She smiled. Maybe that was something Clark had learned from Jonathan. It was a nice thought. But, right now, it was also counterproductive. Besides, there was still the discomfort of what had happened all those years ago. She and Jonathan had talked a little about it on their way back to Smallville that fall; but, after that, he would never talk about it again. Aware of her relationship with Cliff but not really understanding it, Jonathan had always regarded that summer as a time when she had rejected him. After it was all over, Jonathan had just taken her home and they had started from there to build their life together. Anyway, she thought, I just want to find out. When I do, it's done. Early that afternoon, after Laura had gone to sleep under the watchful eye of her doting grandfather, Martha walked to the nearest subway station and caught a train going south to the district where the Nostalgia Theatre was located, not far from the Annex of the old market district south of Kingston. It was as good as anywhere to start, she thought. As the subway car slowed, she noticed, for the first time, the dark narrow tunnels that radiated off the main line of the track into darkness. She wondered why they had been constructed and if, perhaps, this was where Clark had rescued people last night. Then the car came to a complete halt, its doors sliding open to discharge her onto the half empty platform. Walking quickly to the nearest exit, she climbed a flight of stairs, past two people sitting on the floor, their possessions bundled in green plastic garbage bags and their eyes watching her. She stopped, and gave them some spare cash. The district was shabbier than she had thought last night when they had gone to the movie. Most things look better at night, the darkness rendering reality either romantic or mysterious, a time when all things are possible. In the daylight, Martha's first thought was that Metropolis ought to spend more money on trash collection and street sweepers. A few large containers planted with trees would help, too. She crossed the road to the small movie theatre that they had attended last night. The very young and very orange-haired woman at the ticket booth was not busy. Martha explained what had happened last night and asked the girl a few questions. Not bothering to hide her disdain at the naivete of Martha's questions, she let Martha know that pickpockets were a fact of life in the big city, that you had to be careful, that the police were no help, and that anyone could disappear in Metropolis if they wanted to. She shrugged her thin, black clad shoulders and turned back to the latest copy of the National Whisper. Martha's next stop was the small coffee and magazine shop next to the movie house. Business was slow and the man behind the counter was inclined to be talkative. As she sipped her coffee, Martha modified her story, leaving out the pickpockets, saying only that she was looking for a lost wallet. Sympathizing with her plight, the man listened, his dark eyes attentive. "Don't think you'll find it now. A lot of people around here could use the cash, ya know?" "I guess so." Martha looked out the window toward the street. "Times are tough here?" "Yeah. We're just outside of the "village" so the money from the rehabs and renos in Kingston hasn't drifted this far yet." "Maybe it will." Wanting to encourage him, she continued, "It seemed busy last night when I was here with my husband and friends." "Yeah. We do most of our business at night. But look carefully at the crowd. We get a lot of hustlers at night, looking for cash. Your husband's wallet is probably in a dumpster somewhere, stripped of credit cards and bills. Easy to lift from someone distracted by his friends." "So my husband was an easy mark?" she said, her tone light. The man grinned briefly as he topped up her coffee. "Your words, not mine. Probably." "Now that I think of it, maybe you're right. We were jostled last night as we came out of the movie. Two men. But I must say, neither of them looked like thieves. One was tall, a big man. I would think a pickpocket would be slight. The other was about my age, with grey hair." Martha watched him as she spoke and was rewarded. The smooth openness of his pleasant face closed like shutters on a window. His voice was noncommittal as he replied. "Lotta people like that around." He walked towards the end of the counter and pulled out a sheaf of menus from a shelf below, then busied himself inserting a one page addition into each one. Martha was positive her description had rung a bell with him, but she was unsure what to do next. What would Lois or Clark do in this situation, she wondered. It must happen all the time. "I'm not interested in going to the police about this and I know the money's gone. But it would make our lives easier to get back the personal things in the wallet." "Why you? Why not your husband? It's his stuff." Martha flashed him a smile, part mischievous. "He thinks it's hopeless." He put the menus down on the counter and looked at her. "You wanna be careful, lady. This isn't smalltown, USA. Some people out there will do anything for their next meal, next drink, next hit. And they don't care who they do it to." "Most people aren't like that. I don't think these men were like that." He sighed. "Let it go, lady." Martha took his comment as a sign. She paid her bill and walked toward the door. As she did, she noticed for the first time a small poster advertising an exhibition of work done by a cooperative of fringe artists, its stark design a strong contrast to the collage of small posters and ads clustered by the front door of the coffee shop. That gave Martha her next idea. * * * ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 17:03:58 -0600 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Kathy Brown Subject: S6, Ep4, The Last Time I Saw Elvis, part 2/8 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Late that afternoon, Lois Lane pushed through the massive front door of the Planet, her long legs striding energetically toward the elevator. Checking her watch, she thought she'd just have time to finish the article she was writing and then head home. Since returning to work after her maternity leave, she had kept a regular schedule on those days she went in to the Planet, taking unfinished stories and research home with her, to be worked on after Laura was settled for the night. She missed Laura; it seemed she changed every day and Lois was surprised at the small lurch of her heart each time she left her baby in the morning. She did not doubt that returning to work was the right thing for a lot of reasons, but still it was hard, harder than she'd ever thought it would be. Did Clark feel this way, she wondered? If she ever got any time alone with him, she'd ask. The Daily Planet could not get that on-site day care facility set up fast enough for her. But the plan had got bogged down somewhere between Financial's costing report, Personnel's check on the state requirements for preschool caregivers, and Legal's investigation of any potential liabilities that the Planet might face. As she entered the elevator, Lois thought she'd better get on their collective cases again or Laura would be starting high school before that day care centre ever opened. "Lois, hold it." The voice came from a balding man in his late thirties, gym fit and health food thin, with the blunt features of a prize fighter. He quickened his step toward the dark panelled elevator in which Lois was standing. "Hi, Bentley. Read your critique of the design for the new Bronson Tower." Lois pressed the button for the newsroom floor as the heavy elevator door slid shut. "And?" Bentley J. Hoolihan, the Daily Planet arts critic, grinned at the woman beside him. "It was good." Lois's voice was sincere. She liked his comments on the use of urban spaces. She hadn't thought about that sort of thing in any systematic way before and his columns had increased her awareness of the city that she loved so passionately and thought she understood so well. "Bet you got some flack on it." "Some. Public relations guy at Bronson thinks I'm a subversive because I wrote the building is a bloody hulking battleship sinking the poor and the homeless. Nicely written flack though. Guy must've taken an English course before the MBA." "The site's not too far from where that gas leak occurred last night, is it? You think someone might be trying to sabotage the project?" "Someone should, but who knows. Your friend Superman was there. What does he have to say?" "Now, how would I know, Bentley?" "I thought Superman told you everything," he kidded. "Kent must get pissed off sometimes." Lois kept her cool. "It was Clark he talked to about the gas leak last night." "Seriously, Lois, you might be on to something about the sabotage. It wouldn't surprise me, although it kind of backfired last night. I know there's an activist group in that area. But they've been more proactive. Radical art, street theatre, that kind of stuff. Remember that homeless nativity at City Hall just before Christmas? They organized that. By the way, I was down in the gas leak area this afternoon. You know, in the Annex, just east of the Bronson construction site." As he said this, the elevator door slid open and he followed her as she walked down the few steps into the newsroom. Lois was interested. Dumping her purse on her desk, she leaned against its edge, her arms folded and her slender legs crossed at the ankles. "Did you hear anything?" "No. Just concern about the after effects of the gas. Superman got rid of it pretty quickly. How does he do that anyway?" He looked at her, expecting an answer. "How should I know, Bentley?" She shrugged her shoulders. Spotting Clark coming towards them from Perry's office, she added, "Maybe Clark knows." "Knows what?" Clark took up a position beside Lois and smiled at her, a brief private greeting that, for a moment, excluded Bentley. "How Superman got rid of the gas last night," Bentley said. "Read my article, Ben, not just the headline." "Oops." Bentley laughed and changed the subject. "I was telling Lois I was down there this afternoon. Doing a tour of the studios. Interesting stuff, by the way. Raw and powerful. Oh, yeah," he got back on track. "I think I saw your mom, Clark. She didn't see me though. She was looking at a small painting." "I don't think it could have been her, Ben. She's home with Laura." Clark slid his hands into his pockets as he spoke. "Sure looked a lot like her. Same hair color, glasses, that energy when she walks. I'm positive it was her. I tried to catch up with her, but she didn't see me and then I got into a discussion with a new sculptor who's joined the atelier. Vigorous stuff, by the way. You should check it out." Lois laughed. "If we ever get time." Bentley grinned. "Be careful, Lane. This domestic role. I'm just glad I knew you when." He gave a mock sigh. "Mad Dog Lane. Awesome." Clark put his arm around his wife's shoulder. "Still is, Ben. She still is." Bentley shrugged his broad shoulders. "Gotta go. Column to write." Lois was quiet as he left, barely aware of Clark's solicitous "What is it, honey?" She didn't reply for a moment, but instead walked behind her desk. Refocusing, she glanced at her husband. "I'm glad Martha was able to get out this afternoon, Clark. I've always kind of admired her interest in art." "That's not what was on your mind, Lois." Clark turned to look at her, meeting her dark eyes as he called her bluff. "Don't take Ben seriously. He was just kidding." "Yeah," she buried Ben's comment in her mind, right beside her fear that she couldn't manage both career and motherhood. "Maybe Martha bought that painting." "Lois, I think Ben was mistaken. Mom never said she was going out today." "Oh, so she checks with you and Jonathan whenever she wants out, does she?" Lois teased. "I never knew that." Clark grinned. "We Kent men keep a close eye on our women." Lois's eyes lit up. "Clark, I'm gonna tell Martha you said that." "You wouldn't." "You think?" She narrowed her eyes and swept her gaze appraisingly over his body, its power not completely hidden by the dark fabric of his trousers and cotton shirt. "Of course, I could be persuaded, for a price, to keep quiet," she drawled. Clark bent forward, placing his hands on her desk so that he was leaning over her, his face close to hers, and said slowly, his voice low, "Baby, for you, I'm prepared to pay any price you name as soon as you want." "If we ever get the time, " Lois sighed as she touched the smooth hard knot of his tie and then lightly slid her fingers along its silky length. Jimmy interrupted them, his excited voice a reminder that they were still, after all, at work. "C.K. I heard there was a bomb threat at the Bronson construction site on 23rd and Hamilton. That's not too far from where I live. What happened?" "Clark?" Lois was surprised. "Nothing happened." Clark grimaced in disgust. "Not much of a story. It was a practical joke. The emergency crew evacuated the workers and when the demolition guy started to defuse the bomb, it exploded, all right." Clark's fingers made quotation marks as he spoke. "The bomb released a batch of paper snakes." Jimmy laughed. "Cool. Wonder who did it." "There was a note, a banner actually. The City Environment Protection League. CEPL. Protesting the construction of the Bronson Tower on land they want to be a park." "You gotta admit, C.K., it's a cool way to make a point." Clark smiled. "Maybe, but the police don't think so. They take even fake bombs pretty seriously. It's not just the waste of their time, but the panic over the bomb." "They charge anyone?" Lois asked. "No, but they're investigating." Jimmy's face became more serious. "I still think whoever did plant the bomb has a point, though. Once it's built, that tower's gonna wreck the whole feel of the area. I hope they win." Clark walked behind his desk and sat down. "I dunno, Jimmy. After all, the court did throw out the case that the Metropolis Urban League brought to stop construction. CEPL doesn't have much chance of stopping it now they've started excavating the foundation." "Clark, I've never heard of CEPL before. Why don't we do a little digging? Could be a story there." Lois looked interested and moved into command mode. "I'll start with Bentley. Maybe he's heard of these guys. Jimmy, you do a data search and Clark, you. . ." she stopped speaking as she noticed that faraway look in his eye. "I'll see you later, after you've returned that video." * * * Martha was preparing dinner on automatic pilot, her mind planning what to do next in her search for her old friend. That afternoon, in a small spartan studio-gallery, she had spotted, in a far corner at the back, a painting that she knew was his. It had not been difficult to recognize his work with its distinctive mix of soft realism and harsh edged abstraction. Besides, it contained, in the lower right corner, hidden in the darkness of the paint like a shadow image, a tiny broken egg, something that he always managed to incorporate into his sketches and paintings in the days she had known him. No signature, just the initials: CGM. He had never signed his full name. Clifford Gilbert Moran. Although the gallery manager had been friendly when Martha had entered the studio, he turned noncommittal when she asked about the painting, saying only that he often exhibited a few works by other artists along with his own. He'd liked this painting and so had agreed to display it. He wasn't even sure if the man who had brought it to him was the artist or a friend of the artist. As far as he knew, no one else in the Annex was showing anything by this artist. Who was he, Martha had asked. John Marshall. The gallery owner would not give Martha an address or even a phone number, saying that Marshall had left neither. End of conversation. Martha had looked at the painting again for a few moments, wishing she could afford to buy it. He must need the money more than she did. Besides, she thought it was a good painting. Lost in thought, she had left the studio. Now, standing in the kitchen thinking about all this, Martha decided to return to the studio district tomorrow. Her decision coincided with the buzzer of the oven timer, pulling her back to the task of putting the finishing touches on an apple crisp. As she was sliding it into the oven, she heard Lois in the front hall. Martha left the kitchen in time to see Lois's eyes light up as she took her baby daughter in her arms, a beaming Jonathan standing beside mother and child. As Martha watched, she gave a silent thank you to whatever force had made it possible for her son and this woman to find each other. "How's she been today, Jonathan? Do you think she missed me?" Lois asked, a touch of anxiety in her tone. "She's been an angel and I know she missed you." Lois glanced at him, her eyes flashing with humor. "And just how do you know that, Jonathan?" Jonathan smiled at his daughter-in-law indulgently. "My granddaughter tells me everything. Doesn't she, Martha?" Martha laughed, "Of course she does." As they were standing on the landing, Clark came in, looking a little rushed. "Just made it. Not as late as I thought." He visibly relaxed, smiling a greeting at Lois and kissing her cheek as he took Laura >from her. "How's my baby girl? You know, you're even more beautiful than when your mamma and I left you this morning." He bounced her gently as he talked to her, responding to her gurgles as though Laura were holding up her end of the conversation. "So tell me what you did today. Did you tell your grandma and grandpa about your new fuzzy toy?" Amused, Lois watched for a moment and then teased, "So Clark are you going to take off your coat or is this a short visit?" Grinning, he gave Laura to her again, took off his coat, and then followed his family into the dining room. During dinner, Jonathan told Lois and Clark that his wallet had been returned, contents intact. That led into desultory talk of the day's events, including Martha's shopping expedition in search of a wedding present for a nephew being married next month. When Lois mentioned that the Planet's art critic thought he had seen her in a studio-gallery in the Annex of the old market district south of Kingston, Jonathan interrupted, sounding concerned. Wasn't that area a little dangerous? Reassuring him, Martha only said that she thought Bentley must have been mistaken. She had been at LaFayette's, one of Metropolis's oldest and largest department stores. Then, feeling a twinge of guilt at misleading her family, she escaped into the kitchen to retrieve the apple crisp. Clark took off just as Martha was serving dessert, flying to the rescue of a major derailment of a passenger train caught in a blizzard in central Canada. With temperatures of -30 degrees centigrade, "faster than a speeding bullet" help was essential. Thus it was Martha, rather than Clark, who gave Lois a hand as she bathed Laura and got her ready for bed. As she drizzled warm water over her daughter's plump shoulders, Lois commented on how much Clark enjoyed being part of his child's bedtime routine. She giggled as Laura squealed in delight, splashing her tiny fists in the water. Lois looked sideways at Martha for a moment and laughed, "You know, if someone had told me five years ago that I'd be doing this, and *loving* doing this, I'd have thought he was a taco short of a combo." Laura splattered water happily as Lois continued. "But then I met your son and some kind of primitive programming seemed to take over." "I think that worked both ways, Lois." "Oh yeah, I know that. You know the funny thing is, I always knew that Clark would be a good father; he's always been so good with kids. Not me. Little kids kinda spooked me. But now. . ." Her words trailed off as she lifted Laura out of the water and wrapped her in a soft towel, rubbing noses with her as she did. "When Dr. Klein said we couldn't have children, and then, when the adoption agency rejected us, I felt empty, like part of my soul had been destroyed." There was a silence in the tiny room for a moment and then Martha spoke with the remembered pain of her youth. "I know, Lois, I know." Distressed, Lois looked at the older women. "Martha, I'm sorry, I forgot." As if trying to console her mother-in-law, she handed the terry wrapped Laura into her grandmother's arms. "It's just that I can't imagine better, more natural parents, than you and Jonathan are for Clark. I know how much he loves you." Martha smiled at Laura as she started to walk to her bedroom. "It's okay, honey," she said to Lois. "It was such a long time ago. And now there's Laura." "Why didn't you adopt, Martha? You and Jonathan had been married for a few years before Clark came. I mean, they rejected Clark and me because of me." She snickered. "Clark, Mr. Cornfield Wholesome of the Midwest, got a five star rating while I got a negative five." "I didn't know it was because of you." Martha's tone registered both astonishment and outrage. "Why would they reject you, Lois?" "Said I was disaster prone, that I sought excitement, that I was prone to falling out of buildings. Not motherhood material. *Gross* exaggeration. I couldn't believe it. How do those people get their jobs anyway?" Smiling, Martha said, "You know, Lois, Jonathan and I did try to adopt when it became clear we weren't going to have a child. We both had tests done and the doctors told us there was no hope. I think that was the hardest time in our marriage. But we were so sure we would be able to adopt. Then the Child Placement Agency of the State of Kansas," Martha said with some bitterness still evident in her tone, "turned us down." "What? I can't believe that Martha. Why would they do that?" "Oh, they approved of Jonathan. He was well thought of by the people of Smallville and he had a solid record during his two years of military service. I was the one they rejected." "Martha, how could that be? You've been a great mother. I can't imagine them turning you down." "Oh, it was because I'd been arrested and spent a few days in jail," Martha said calmly as she finished diapering Laura. "There you go, sweetheart. All ready for your mommy." "What?" Lois's voice was nearly a squeak. "Arrested? Martha, what for?" "Nothing really very much, dear. Disturbing the peace, obstruction of justice, and assault on a police officer." She made a face at her granddaughter along with a throaty cooing sound and then placed her in Lois's arms. "She's just so gorgeous." "Martha, can we focus for a minute, here?" "Whatever do you mean, Lois?" Lois rolled her eyes. "Well, for one thing, how could that happen? For another, how come I've never heard about this before? I mean, Clark's never mentioned anything." "I was involved in a civil rights demonstration. You know, I don't think Clark knows about it." Martha's voice was thoughtful. "He would only be aware that his father and I participated in the civil rights movement later, after we were married. By the time we had Clark, what happened in Alabama seemed far in the past. It's not something Jonathan was comfortable discussing, I think because that summer was a time when things were not going so well between us. So I never talked about it." Lois settled in the rocking chair and began to nurse Laura. "So tell me about it, Martha." Martha sat in the worn wicker chair opposite Lois. It was one that Clark had rescued from the attic in Smallville, a favorite from his childhood. Martha sat back in the chair and watched Lois for a moment before speaking. "It really was a long time ago. I was taking an art course at the University of Kansas and got involved in civil rights. I joined the campus branch of SNCC, a radical group, and went to Washington that summer to join the Freedom Rides south. Lois, it was the most exhilarating time." Martha's blue eyes sparkled at the memory. "We were so committed to what we were doing and we really felt that we could make a difference." "And then what happened?" "We got a bad reception in one of the towns we stopped in. We'd entered the bus terminal quietly in pairs but we were met by an angry mob. Lois, I'll never forget the hatred in their eyes. For a moment everyone was dead silent and then they started calling us names, spitting at us, and hitting us while the police stood by doing nothing. A friend of mine struck back, and then one of the cops hit him with his club. I stepped on the cop's foot and then I punched him." Lois started to laugh. "Martha, I can't believe you did that." "Well, I did. The judge sentenced me to two weeks in jail and then I went home." "Where was Jonathan through all this?" As Lois was asking this question, they could hear Jonathan's heavy footsteps coming down the hall toward the nursery and then his big cheerful voice. "Did I just hear my name?" Martha turned to smile with affection at her husband. "Yes, you did, Jonathan. We were just talking about the past." "Well, here's some news from the present. CNN just made a brief mention of the train derailment. Said that Superman is on the scene. No pictures yet, they haven't been able to get a camera crew there." "How serious is it, Jonathan? Did they say?" Lois asked. "Pretty bad," Jonathan's voice was grim. "One passenger dead and a lot of people trapped in the wreckage. The blizzard is still so strong that the Canadian Search and Rescue guys haven't reached them yet." "I guess Clark won't be home for awhile," Lois sighed. * * * Lois was right. Clark didn't get home until shortly after two in the morning. Silently, he slipped into his daughter's bedroom and stood in the darkness watching her as she slept. There was a time when he had given up all hope that he would be able to have a family and he had despaired that it would be his fate to live his adult life in isolation, without love. Tonight had been hard. He had been too late to save the life of one woman and several other people had been badly hurt. Now, as he looked at his daughter, he renewed his vow to always protect her. Nothing would ever threaten her. Then he gently kissed her forehead and left the room, drifting slightly above the creaky wooden floor in the hall so as not to awaken his sleeping child. When he got to the room at the end of the hallway, he stood at the foot of the bed for a moment. This time, it was his sleeping wife whom he watched and, as he did, he felt the pain of this night's carnage begin to heal. He slipped into bed, and slid his arm across her waist. Lois, still asleep, drowsily murmured his name and curled her body into his. It wasn't long before he too fell into a deep sleep. * * * "Lois, I've got some info for you on CEPL." Jimmy dodged around the clutter of the newsroom, waving a sheet of paper which he handed to her as soon as he reached her desk. Lois skimmed it quickly and smiled at him. "Great, Jimmy! Good background material. I wonder if they're planning something as a follow up to yesterday." "They just might be, Lois." Bentley J. Hoolihan joined the two reporters. "I heard some talk last night when I was at the Fringe theatre. CEPL's planning a street demonstration at the Bronson construction site today." "You're kidding!" Lois's voice was excited. "When?" "About noon." Reaching for her bag, Lois stood up quickly and then headed for the elevator, pausing to grab the last chocolate donut by the coffee machine. Resuming her path, she called out, "Grab your camera, Jimmy. We'll need shots." Following her into the elevator, Jimmy asked, "Where's C.K. this morning?" "Um, not sure. Didn't get a chance to talk to him before I left." Lois took another mouthful of chocolate junk food. "He leave early on a story?" Lois laughed. "The reverse. He worked late last night. Last I saw him, he was fast asleep." She ate her donut in silence for a moment. "Mmmm. This is sooo good. Do you know how long it's been since I've had chocolate?" Bemused, Jimmy looked at her as she explained, her mouth full. "Fattening and the caffeine, too. Not good for Laura. Of course, I gave it up. Well, mostly gave it up. But you can't live without chocolate. Did you know that, Jimmy?" Trying to suppress a grin, Jimmy nodded solemnly at her as the elevator opened onto the main lobby of the Planet just as Lois was taking another bite of donut. Completely absorbed in the semi-orgasmic taste of chocolate, she collided with a broad chest as she walked out of the elevator. "Good morning, Lois." Clark's eyes were laughing, taking in the traces of junk food on her upper lip. "You look good in chocolate." He bent forward and lightly kissed her cheek. "Morning." Lois wiped the traces of chocolate from her face, searching his as she did. "You okay?" "Yeah. Looks like I'll see you later, though." "Uh huh. CEPL is planning a demonstration at that Bronson tower construction site. Jimmy and I are going over there now. See you later." Clark watched her go, the smile vanishing from his face. Lois, he thought, we've got to stop meeting like this. It'd been a while since they had any real time alone together. He missed her. Maybe tonight would be different. * * * ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 17:04:21 -0600 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Kathy Brown Subject: S6, Ep4, The Last Time I Saw Elvis, part 3/8 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Martha picked up the plain brown envelope from the front porch of the brownstone shortly after Clark left for work. As she was clearing up in the kitchen, she'd heard the doorbell but by the time she opened the door, no one was there. The envelope had her name on it. Once inside the townhouse, she opened it and let out a gasp when she saw its contents. On a blank piece of paper was printed a simple message: . The second sheet was good quality cartridge paper bearing a sensuously sketched pastel portrait of a nude woman, beautiful, young, with long strawberry blonde hair. The initials CGM were in the corner. The model was Martha Clark. Shaken, Martha quickly stuffed both message and sketch back into the envelope. There was no way she was going to let Jonathan see this. The last time he'd come across a nude portrait of her, they'd had a huge fight and he'd leapt to all the wrong conclusions. Besides, she hadn't really been nude in that painting he'd found in the barn a few years ago. A sheet had been artfully draped across the more interesting parts of her body. Nevertheless, it had been enough to send Jonathan off to seek refuge with Clark in Metropolis. In the old sketch in her hand, however, the more interesting parts of her body were fully, and not too badly, Martha thought, on display. Jonathan came out of the kitchen, carrying Laura. "What was it, Martha?" "Nothing, Jonathan. Just junk mail." She started to climb the stairs. "I'll go get an extra blanket for Laura. It's chilly this morning." * * * Lois and Jimmy spent the rest of the morning taking pictures and interviewing or semi-interviewing people who lived in the old market Annex, just east of the construction site, towards Hobbs Bay. The site manager had let slip that he had heard that the developer of the Bronson Tower complex also had plans to redevelop the east side as soon as he could get his hands on the real estate. Lois thought that development would be a godsend for this area until he told her that Bronson's plan was for massive office towers and an expensive condominium but no plan for any other type of facility, let alone green space. As she and Jimmy talked to the locals, Lois realized that there was another problem if redevelopment went ahead. Where would these people go? They lacked the money to pay even an average Metropolis rent. A surprising number appeared to be homeless. Some were squatters, living in derelict warehouses and abandoned apartment buildings, banding together to survive as best they could. Their living arrangements were illegal, in violation of trespassing laws and numerous city bylaws governing heat and electricity, not to mention fire regulations. But nobody cared and they were surviving: a motley crew of half well indigents released by health care institutions too soon, adolescents fleeing the horrors of family abuse, petty criminals, and drug users. The only help out there came from two volunteer shelters run by church groups. CEPL's demonstration started shortly after twelve and attracted many of the residents of the east side as well as a large number of passersby on their lunch hour. The day was milder than usual for January, damp with the promise of an evening snowfall. The demonstrators were shabby, dressed in jeans and thick jackets, mostly black or dark khaki in color. They looked like an army that had come out of the bowels of the earth. They wore large, oversized masks, fashioned to resemble mythological creatures, jesters, and jokers, their features twisted grotesquely so that the images were both surreal and bizarre and in some inner primal sense, disturbing. They chanted their slogans like a Greek chorus of doom, their voices accompanied by the staccato beating of a drum, its frenzy increasing as the voices got louder with anger, ending with the chanted, "We declare war on the developers, destroyers of the city!" When they finished, several of them dramatically lit grenades and then flung them in unison toward the building. The grenades were dummies, releasing dry ice for dramatic effect, but it was too late. Several of the construction workers charged the demonstrators and the whole scene deteriorated into what looked like a barroom brawl. Like ants, people seeped out of adjacent buildings and swarmed around the fighters, shouting encouragement to both sides. As Lois was watching this, her eyes swept the crowd and then stopped. Over at the opposite end of the melee she saw Martha Kent in the middle of what looked like an intense discussion with a tall, slender, grey-haired man. Both gestured dramatically and Lois could tell, even from this distance, that Martha was deeply involved in the argument. Assuming her mother-in-law was in trouble, Lois forced her way through the shouting crowd, not an easy thing to do when it was focused on events in the opposite direction. "Lady, watch who you're pushin'. Get outta here." "You're in my way. Move!" Lois dodged to the man's left and wove around him, adroitly charging into the next empty patch of pavement on her trek through the crowd. By the time she got to the spot where Martha had been, her mother-in-law had vanished. Lois looked around and couldn't see her anywhere. All she saw was Martha's opponent, striding quickly away from the tangled crowd. Worried, Lois jogged over to a small coffee shop, hoping that Martha would be there. She wasn't. Quickly scanning the area, Lois noticed a subway stop about half a block away. Maybe Martha had headed home. Sprinting the short distance, she paid her fare and then raced down the steps to the subway platform just in time to see Martha getting into the car at the far end seconds before its doors closed. Then the track was empty. Lois took a deep breath and walked back up the subway steps to the street. * * * "Clark, we have to talk." Lois, still in her coat, stood in front of Clark's desk. Surprised by the firmness of her tone, Clark stopped what he was doing. One more unidentified body had shown up and he was trying to link it to the unsolved murders that had occurred over the last couple of months. It bothered him that Superman had not been able to prevent these random killings. Now he turned away from a map plotting the sites of the bodies to give his full attention to his partner. "Okay. What's up?" "Not here." Turning to look in the direction of the empty conference room, she nodded towards it. "The conference room," she said as she stalked towards it. Clark followed her, closing the door behind them after he entered the room. He grinned at her, distracted by the way her dark hair curved along the line of her cheek. "You know, this is the first time we've been alone together and *both* awake at the same time in two days." He pushed the wayward strand of dark hair that had fallen across her forehead back into its proper place, a gentle involuntary touch. Lois's eyes softened and she touched his hand. "I guess it is. Maybe this weekend will be different." Her voice was wistful but then she came back to her original purpose in getting him alone. "But first we have to find out what's going on with Martha." "What?" He looked confused. "What are you talking about, Lois?" "There's something she's not telling us, Clark. I know it. I just saw her in the crowd at the CEPL protest arguing with a man I think was a participant in it." "Are you sure, Lois? Before I left for work, Mom told me she was going out today to look for that wedding present. No mention of anything else. Besides, why would she want to go to that part of town?" "I don't know, Clark, but she was in the Annex yesterday, and something happened after the movie on Thursday, and she's not telling us about it." Lois was emphatic. Clark's body language betrayed his skepticism, his right hand gesturing as he spoke. "Come on, Lois. This is my Mom we're talking about here. She wouldn't hide anything from us." Lois narrowed her eyes. "She's an open book, is she?" "Well, yeah. She would have told us if she were going to that demonstration. It was probably someone who looked like her." Lois rolled her eyes. "Okay. We'll ask her tonight." * * * Lois did. She waited until they had finished dinner and were drinking tea to ask Martha the question. At least, she worked up to asking her the question. "Any luck in finding a wedding present today, Martha?" "Yes. I found just the thing. And they were willing to ship it to Kansas." "Do anything else?" "No, shopping for the perfect gift takes time." "What did you get, Mom?" "Silver candlesticks." Lois thought, like that takes time, and forged ahead. "You know, I saw someone who looked a lot like you at the CEPL protest I was covering today. I could have sworn it was you." "I don't think so, dear. Must have been someone who looks like me. More tea, Jonathan?" "Thanks, Martha." Lois let the issue go but resolved to talk again to Clark. She was sure she'd seen Martha and she was worried. She spoke to him later as they were bathing Laura but Clark, absorbed in his child, continued to shrug off her concern. For him, it was simple. Martha was his mom and she wouldn't lie. Clark picked up his daughter and began to gently dry her as he spoke. "Come on, Lois, you're imagining things. Why would Mom be there?" He picked Laura up, planted a big, noisy kiss on her cheek, and grinned when she squealed back at him. Later, after Laura had settled down to sleep, and Lois, Clark, and Jonathan were in the living room, Martha came downstairs, distress evident in her face. "Jonathan, did you happen to find that envelope that came this morning?" "What? Oh, yes. I put it in the recycle box." "You didn't happen to look in it before you did?" "No, not much interested in junk mail, Martha." "It had some coupons inside. I'll fish it out." She walked to the kitchen and soon returned with the envelope in her hand. "I'll take it back to the apartment with us." Lois turned to Clark and raised one eyebrow. Coupons, she thought, don't come in plain brown envelopes. * * * A bomb exploded early the next morning in the excavation for the foundation of the Bronson building. The magnesium flash of the explosion seared the dark sky, alerting Superman as he was returning to the city. He streaked downwards but wasn't in time to save the night watchman whose bloodied body lay just outside the blast area. The girders and scaffolding that had been erected earlier in the week now had collapsed inward like scattered match sticks. Using his x-ray vision, Clark scanned the debris to make sure that there were no other victims and no one was trapped. Then, bowing his head, he knelt down on one knee beside the body of the guard and was silent. He couldn't be everywhere at once; he knew that; but still he mourned whenever he did not make it in time. * * * By the time the Kent household was up Sunday morning, LNN was broadcasting coverage of the explosion. The police had ascertained that a bomb had caused it and that the victim was a retired police officer working part time in security. Interviews with his former colleagues and neighbors all confirmed that he was a decent man, a good friend, and devoted to his family. A spokesperson for Bronson said that the corporation would continue with the project; they would not bow to terrorism. The police, who were still searching for evidence and interviewing people in the area, were noncommittal in attributing blame for the explosion. Watching the small T.V. in the kitchen, Lois thought that told her nothing. Then, just as she was walking over to the kitchen counter, LNN interrupted its regular broadcast with news that it had just received a note from CEPL claiming responsibility for the act. Lois turned to Clark, his hair still damp from his morning shower. "What do you think?" she asked as she handed him a cup of coffee. He looked thoughtful. "I don't know. I located what evidence I could last night so the police should be able to start their analysis this morning. I didn't see anyone around the area of the explosion. What do you think, Lois? You know more about CEPL than I do." "It doesn't seem consistent with what our research has shown. They're anarchists, but I would also have said they were pacifists." Her voice was thoughtful. "Still, the final act of their street drama yesterday seemed like a threat of violence to me. I guess I don't know either." She shrugged her shoulders, took a sip of her coffee, and then looked across at him. "Clark, why don't we go down there this morning and see what we can dig up?" He shook his head. "We both can't go and right now it could be dangerous down there, Lois." She smiled and patted him on the chest. "That's all right. I can take care of myself." "Not always, Lois." His voice was soft as he folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head slightly to one side. Lois was silent for a moment; then she spoke, her voice indignant. "Oh, so I need my big, strong husband to protect me whenever I go out?" "That's not fair. You know that's not what I meant." "Then what did you mean?" A tornado warning flashed in her dark eyes. Clark ignored the weather watch and blundered on, driven by that one dark fear inside his gut and the immediacy of the security guard's death. "It's not just me, it's Laura too. You're a mother now, Lois. We've been through such a lot. You take too many risks. You. . ." The tornado swirled down, sucking up the rest of his argument. "I'm still Lois Lane, Clark Kent. I'm still the Planet's best investigative reporter. And I do *not* take risks. And I'm a good mother to Laura, too. I can do this." Oh, Clark thought, there's more here than just this story. He took her hands in his, absently noticing how small they seemed in his much larger ones. "I know that, Lois. Believe me, honey, I know that. But you have to understand me, too. You and Laura are everything I've ever wanted, more than I ever thought I'd have. If anything ever happened. . ." He couldn't finish as the fear that sometimes awakened him in the night resurfaced. "I want to protect you both, to take care of you. I need to do that." Raising one hand, he touched the side of her cheek as he looked into her dark eyes, watching for the tornado to downgrade. Lois let out a sigh, but her tone was disgruntled. "Okay, I know that." The trace of a crooked smile crossed her face, as though she were aware of how contradictory her emotions were. "And I love that, Clark. And I need to protect you and Laura, too, but it's not so easy. What if I can't do it all? What if I lose my edge?" Her eyes were honest as she looked at him, letting him know how torn she felt. "Don't you think I worry about these things, too? My reputation as a reporter is just as important, maybe more important to me than my reputation as Superman. And our daughter and our marriage are more important than either of those two." He stopped for a moment, searching for the words to tell her how fragile he sometimes feared their happiness was and then he shook his head. "But lately, it seems that our marriage is the last thing that gets any time." He smiled ruefully at her. "Lois, this is the first time we've been alone together in three days. Laura's sleeping, Mom and Dad are at their place, and *you* want to go check out some story." His right hand slid under the yoke of her flannel shirt, touching the smooth skin of her shoulder, his thumb slowly tracing the ridge of her collar bone. "Mom and Dad will be here after lunch and then Lane and Kent can go look for the bad guys." Lowering his head, he kissed her, a lingering, soft kiss, an invitation. "Come back to bed with me, Lois." Lois softened, stepping more closely to him. Sliding her arms around his neck, her mouth close to his, she whispered, "Deal, partner." His arms went around as he felt her lips cover his. "Lois," his voice was a husky sigh from the back of his throat. Picking her up in one smooth action, he carried her upstairs, laughing as she bit lightly at his ear, whispering, teasing him with her words, her hands, her mouth. Yes, he thought, things are definitely looking up. * * * The mood was tense around the roped off Bronson construction site that afternoon. CEPL was out in force, dressed in dark earth tones, many of them wearing masks from yesterday's drama. Marching defiantly in the falling snow, their pickets denounced not just the construction but also what the group claimed was corporate America's attempt to destroy free speech. Their signs were large and colorful, the slogans ideologically diverse: . An LNN camera crew was filming the whole thing. Looking at the protesters, Lois said, "Let's talk to the guy with the "innocent" sign. She charged ahead of Clark toward the person carrying the sign to find that the bearer was a woman, more accurately, a girl, her red hair hacked short in a near buzz cut and small zodiac earrings dangling >from each ear. Her thin face was partially obscured by a dark scarf which she had wound around her neck and chin against the cold. Clark noticed that she was shorter than Lois and in spite of the bulk of her oversized padded coat, she seemed frail. Her anger was obvious as she answered their questions. "Bronson is trying to destroy this city. They're building a concrete fortress. They've got the police on their side. They're trying to blame us but we didn't do it. It's not right. Can't you see that?" Keeping her voice low-key, Lois asked the girl for her name so they could attribute their quote in the article. Her dark eyes widened and her voice turned shrill. "You're setting me up. You want to arrest me." "No, no. We just want to get the truth out. We're from the Daily Planet." Lois tried to calm her. "You've been sent by them, I know it, I know it." She was panicking, fear in her voice. Clark spoke to her, his voice soothing, at least he hoped it was. "It's O.K. We don't need your name." Smiling at her, he said, "We'll call you a reliable source." The girl's agitation dissipated. "Reliable source. I like that." She picked up her sign and continued her walk. Clark could hear her muttering, "Reliable source", like a mantra, and he thought, with a pang of sadness, that the real story here was more than a bombing and more than the construction site. A short, stocky man in a long dark winter coat, followed by two police officers, approached the picketers, scanning their numbers for a moment, hesitating, as though he were uncertain what to do next. Then, pulling a piece of paper from his breast pocket, he spoke loudly and with surprising firmness. "That's it, folks. Break it up. The Bronson corporation and the City of Metropolis have secured an injunction prohibiting picketing within a hundred yards of any evidence from this morning's explosion. Time to go home." Behind him, the two cops had adopted the military "at ease" stance, their bodies alert, their hands behind their backs and their faces impassive. "No!" A defiant, prolonged yell came from one of the picketers. Others picked up the "no", their shouts growing hot with anger, as some of the protesters marched toward the city official. Clark watched and listened, noticing that one of the cops was pulling out his radio as the two of them split up and moved to either end of the demonstrators. He felt he could touch the tension in the atmosphere. Still, he hesitated to bring Superman into the situation. Much better if the people here could resolve the situation. At that moment, a tall thin man emerged from the crowd. His face and hair were covered by a mask, made from an old navy bandanna tied at the back of his head. Reaching out his hand, he took the injunction and skimmed it while the crowd behind him waited in silence. Then he raised his head and spoke, his voice deep, with a smooth resonance that was almost hypnotic. "CEPL would like to make a statement to LNN." He paused as two LNN crew members approached, one with a camcorder. "CEPL is not responsible for the Bronson bombing. CEPL has always used peaceful methods to achieve its goals and will continue to fight Bronson's destruction of the city. We seek a more creative use of the city for the benefit of all its citizens. This injunction is an attack on the freedom and the rights of the people. Bronson has declared war on the people." As he spoke, his cadence reminded Clark of some of the speeches he'd read >from the 1960's when he was in college. Lois started to jog over to the CEPL spokesman as he turned away >from the LNN news crew. Calling over her shoulder, she shouted, "Clark, we have to find out who he is. We can't let LNN get this story." She was restrained by a strong grip just above her elbow. "Wait, Lois. There's something wrong. I hear something." His face focused in concentration, Clark shifted his eyes toward the derelict building next to the construction site. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he said, "*You* stay here," and ran into an alley behind them. A moment later, Superman shot into the sky and landed in front of the building. He raced into its front lobby toward the ticking noise that he heard in the corner farthest from him. He got to the bomb just as it was about to detonate. No time to defuse it, let alone time to figure out the mechanism. He blasted upwards through one of the broken windows and then hurled the bomb towards the clouds. Seconds later it exploded with a sharp crack and a flash of light against the dullness of the grey sky above the protesters. When Clark got back to the spot where he had left Lois, she wasn't there. Maybe if I told her to do the most reckless thing she could imagine, that might work, he thought. He spotted her on the far side of the protesters and to his amazement, she was standing still. Then she turned and walked toward him. He looked at her with raised eyebrows, his face a silent question. "What?" Without waiting for his answer, Lois continued, "Clark, I lost him. He must know this area like the back of his hand." Without pausing, she added, "Where did you find the bomb?" "Over there. In that abandoned apartment building." He raised his hand toward the dark brown brick structure to the right of them. By this time, there were murmurs throughout the crowd. Some of them had seen Superman and it didn't require much imagination to figure out what the fireworks display had been. The two police officers were running across to the old building, followed by a few of the crowd and, of course, the LNN crew. The protesters had scattered. * * * ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 17:04:41 -0600 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Kathy Brown Subject: S6, Ep4, The Last Time I Saw Elvis, part 4/8 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Just before dinner, the Kent family, (with the exception of Lois who, astonishingly, was in the kitchen), sat in the living room as they watched the evening news. The program did not give much time to the CEPL story; compared to big national and international stories, this one was minor. However, LNN had pieced together a brief clip of that afternoon's events, followed by a quick montage of the threat made during Saturday's demonstration, a shot of the damage done by the first bomb blast, and a picture of the security guard who had been its victim. The clip concluded with the CEPL spokesman's statement following the announcement of the injunction. The implication in the way LNN constructed the story was that CEPL was a group of dangerous radicals responsible for both bombs. LNN concluded by saying that the police were looking for the spokesman, whom they were calling the masked leader, for questioning. Martha watched it all in silence. As soon as she had heard the masked leader speak, she had recognized him. She would recognize his voice anywhere; it had been a kind of joke among their group all those years ago: Cliff's sexy voice, soft and deeply rich in tone, a magician's voice. She had nearly fallen under its spell again yesterday when she had accidently spotted him on the fringes of the crowd in front of the Bronson construction site. She had been waiting for the bus that would take her >from the subway to the Annex where she planned to revisit the gallery with Cliff's painting, when her curiosity had pulled her across the street toward the demonstration. After a few moments, her eyes had drifted over the faces of the people in the crowd and she had spotted him about twenty feet away from her, standing on the fringe of the crowd. Without hesitating, she had circled briskly around the backs of the spectators to stand beside him, her thoughts a jumble of relief, excitement, and hostility. At first, she'd thought he'd been happy to see her, but he soon turned guarded, warning her away. Her resentment had flared up and she'd given him a piece of her mind. They hadn't been talking for more than ten minutes before they were arguing, angry words slicing the cold air between them. Still, she believed Cliff couldn't possibly be responsible for the construction site bombing. When they were young, he had been so idealistic and he had always opposed the use of violence. But, a small voice reminded her, he hadn't been opposed to illegal action; all those years ago, he had been involved in that bank robbery and a man had died in that robbery. Jonathan was the first to speak, pulling her mind back to the reality of the living room. His voice was strong in its condemnation of CEPL. "I hope they find that guy. As long as he and that group are out there, who knows what can happen? Why don't they work within the system, if they want change?" "Jonathan, have you forgotten? Sometimes the system won't change when it should. You have to get its attention." Martha wasn't sure why she felt so defensive. "They're just kids, Martha, by the look of most of them. What are they doing on the streets like that?" "I don't know, Jonathan. But I do know you can't give up your ideals. Maybe those kids have no choice." "Martha, there's always a choice. When we marched for civil rights, we were peaceful. It looks like this group is prepared to use violence. Actions like that endanger everyone. Remember what happened to you in that riot in Alabama?" Jonathan's face betrayed his disapproval and some tension that Clark did not understand. "Jonathan, we didn't start the violence. Are you saying I did the wrong thing that summer?" Martha was angry now, her voice challenging him. Clark watched, amazed at the sudden flare up between his parents. He had no idea what they were fighting about. He had few memories of his parents fighting. They had always been so close. And what was the Alabama comment all about? "No. No, Martha. But what you did back then was impulsive." Jonathan was tight-lipped as he spoke, his usual easy going demeanor nowhere in evidence. "What are you guys talking about?" Clark's question interrupted them. Martha suddenly seemed conscious of where she was and she took a deep breath. "Oh, nothing, Clark. It all happened before you were born. We ought to forget about it." She shot her husband a warning glance as she said this. Jonathan calmed down a little. "I'd like to Martha, but what am I supposed to think about that sketch?" Martha's eyes widened. "Jonathan, you opened that envelope. How could you?" "It was an accident," he said, tight-lipped. "This morning, I was looking for the medical receipts for the treatment for that rash you developed on our trip so I could submit them to the insurance company. You were out so I couldn't ask you where they were. I checked the top drawer of your dresser and saw the envelope. I thought maybe it had the receipts so I opened it." He took a deep breath. As Jonathan spoke, Clark was surprised by the hurt he saw in his father's eyes. "You never told me, Martha. I thought, when you came back with me that fall, it was what you wanted." Stricken, Martha stepped closer and touched her husband's hand. "Oh, Jonathan, it was. It was. When I came back to Smallville with you, it was because I knew that we belonged together." At that moment, Lois entered the living room and stood there quietly, responding to the distress she saw in all three faces in the room. Since no one was speaking, she did. "Supper, it's uh, ready." The first part of dinner was carried out in uncomfortable silence as neither Martha nor Jonathan seemed to want to talk. Clark was nonplussed, unsure of what to say. Lois, having learned a lesson or two >from her mother-in-law over the last few years about how to deal with awkward situations, opened the conversation by asking Clark what he thought of how she had cooked the roast. Clark, who'd never been asked a question like that by Lois before, looked at her like she was one of the Stepford wives. "Swell, honey." "Good, good. It's a new recipe. I found it in a book Alice gave me when we got engaged. The Journalist's Cookb