The Ball in Clark’s Court
CLARK:
Umm…this means I have to run with it until I’m far away from all the enemy players, right?
Ha! He must have been out of it to buy that load of…
To be fair, his brain wasn’t really getting much oxygenated blood at that time.
Reporters really should have an express elevator, Lois thought. This is ridiculous. News waits for no elevator!
LEX: That’s way I have a private express elevator at Lex Tower.
She would have to come up with different way to get Clark to push past that fear and bring back the man who had once taken off her shirt and kissed down her chest while she was high on Revenge.
Erm…some good FoLCs have suggested that maybe if she started to *act* like she’s high on Revenge…
She didn’t know what exactly Luthor had done to Superman, but that man would rue the day he had messed with her boyfriend.
LEX: Guard? Are you *sure* this plexiglass separator is shatterproof?
Apparently, asking Clark point blank about what Luthor had done to him wasn’t the best way to go about things.
Maybe they could play a game? Everytime Clark reveals something to her she’ll reveal some skin to him?
A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her into the stairwell, closing the door behind her.
Hmm…he’s back in the office already, huh?
Lois tried to get into her fighting stance, but a pair of immovable strong arms pulled her against an expansive chest first. Then some soft lips descended onto hers.
Wouldn’t that position afford her some chance of planting her knee in a sensitive spot? What if that’s Ralph?
LOIS: The ER didn’t get the memo about immovable strong arms, did he?
“Clark?” she sputtered, realizing who it was. What was he doing?
He must be *quite* bad at this.
LANA: There’s a reason why I never enjoyed his attentions.
“You were right and I was wrong,” he murmured between heated kisses.
He trying to score with her?
A Superman shaped hole found in Lois Lane’s bedroom wall. News at eight.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it and you all morning,” Clark went on.
Superman carrying schoolbooks in front of him the entire morning. News at nine.
This time she relaxed into the kiss, enjoying his enthusiasm, because she didn’t know how long it would last.
CLARK:
I swear, Lois, next time will be longer.
“I know,” he said. “I wasn’t rude, just tad more succinct that usual, and not Superman’s usually charming self.”
So, not trying to score with the pretty coed rescuees?
She wasn’t jealous. Clark hadn’t even considered Mayson, but those insecurities apparently weren’t easily dissuaded.
Can’t be helping that the audience is keeping on with the cajoling, huh?
“And then fly off without comment to the press.”
He winced. “You saw that?”
She nodded. “I was there.”
Oops? He dissed his girlfriend? That can’t go over well.
“This morning was amazing. I’ve never…” He smiled broadly. “I didn’t know that I could feel so good.”
I’m starting to think maybe it’s best if a conscious Clark never gets to have sex with a conscious Lois.
Lois scoffed, but inwardly felt filled with glee. Clark thought she was hot. Normally, a man calling her ‘hot stuff’ would rue the day those words crossed his lips, but when Clark said them, well, they felt true.
Poor hot stuff. Now she even has to deal with double standards in her own psyche.
“Mayson wasn’t gung-ho about having Superman on the stand. She said it would disrupt the proceedings, and she’s probably right about that,” he conceded, going down the steps to Lois’s desk.
Superman could promise to sign autographs or go to candlelight dinners with each member of the jury who votes guilty?
“I have faith in Ms. Drake’s ability to prosecute,” Clark replied.
Tell me about it, Lois thought sourly,
Yes, but what if that ne’er-do-well also has a rich sugardaddy ensuring his release?
BILL CHURCH Sr.:
Would Superman knowing that Intergang existed months ago made any difference?
Hmm…I think a ‘have’s missing there.
“Saints alive! What’s going on out here?” Perry yelled, emerging from his office.
Some of the guys from accounting are raiding the newsroom with paintball guns?
The man went on, “I’m contacting you on a frequency that only you and a few bats can hear.” That explained it.
“Great,” Clark mumbled to himself. “A Batman fan.”
:
I don’t care if it’s a cat chasing a mouse, you flash cape in that part of town, you’re looking at an all-expenses-paid education in bereavement.
What if he showed up dressed as Ultra Woman?
Today was just a warning. Next time, the bullets won’t be full of paint.”
You know, one would think those bullets probably should have at least bruised some ribs, maybe even cracked them.
“He could’ve been joking about that,” Clark replied.
Nah, that sounded honest.
“I hypothesized,” Lois continued, “— that because Luthor was running his own criminal organization, big enough to get a pardon from the governor for his girlfriend’s community service,
Or maybe they just went to the same Ivy League school or played golf together or just well, had a financial relationship. He probably just called up his old chump and told him that the community service is cramping his style.
He bugged my office, and videotaped me in my home, my bedroom, and in my shower!” she yelled, heading for the elevators. “So, no, Clark! I can’t just ‘let it go’.”
Oh boy. And she shouted that out loud in the office?
Did Clark really think she was going to break down and cry?
CLARK:
It’s how things went with Lana…
If she let out her frustration, she might well cry, and she refused to give him the satisfaction.
Maybe if she visited Dr. Friskin?
Clark let go of his own hands and took hold of hers. “I’m sorry, Lois, really I am,” he said. “I can’t erase the lies in my head. I can only wallpaper over them with the truth.”
So they’re like mold, spreading behind the wallpaper, poisoning the air in the room one spore at a time?
“You know,” she said hesitantly. “— if we make love, we’d win and he’d lose.”
TEMPUS:
“Are you suggesting that we make a sex tape and send it to Luthor in jail?” he asked and she could hear the incredulity in his voice.
RALPH:
Lois pretended to consider that idea. “Well, it would have to be of me and Superman, and it’s probably best if such a tape never exists,” she said, sighing deeply with regret. “So, no.”
GOODE:
“Make up your mind, Clark. Either I can be myself or I can be patient. I can’t be both.”
She doesn’t do patient men, huh?
‘Make sure you invite people who know how to dress and don’t mind dancing close.’ She grinned. “You’ve got yourself a date.”
Uh-oh? Also, next stop the drug store for some dye?
Michael