--------------------------
Kill Bill’s Fan
By Lynn S. M.
Rated: PG
--------------------------
Disclaimer: The television show Lois & Clark belongs to Warner Bros and D.C. Comics. I am just borrowing the characters for a little not-for-profit fun. (But then again, I’m sure you knew that already.)
My thanks to Cuidadora for alpha and beta reading this story. Her suggestions put the finishing touches on this piece.
This story is a sequel to The First Fanfic (
http://www.lcfanfic.com/stories/2010/html/firstfan.html). You don’t need to have read it to understand this story, but doing so might add to your enjoyment.
<Sentences in angle brackets like these represent thoughts.>
***
“Ah, Lois, would you come see me in my office?”
Lois closed the office door and they both sat down. “What is it, Perry?”
“Well, the bean counters and the IT people got together and--“
Lois couldn’t help interjecting, “Now there’s a super-villain team up.”
“—and they came up with some new rules.”
“Why am I not surprised? So what rules will I be ignoring now?”
Perry looked unusually grim and his voice was subdued but firm when he said, “You can’t ignore them this time, Lois. If you do, you’re fired. And this time the bigwigs mean it. The accountants say the changes are a cost-cutting measure; the IT Police say they’re for security. Either way, the grand poohbahs have made it clear that any infractions will result in termination.”
“So what can’t I do now? Use more than one paper towel when drying my hands? No, IT wouldn’t be interested in that. I know – no more than three sentences in an e-mail? Any more wastes electrons, not to mention people’s time reading them. Am I close?”
“No with the paper towels. Too close with the e-mail. They are saying that company computers may only be used for work purposes; any personal usage is a fire-able offense.”
“So, why are you telling me this?” Lois hoped he hadn’t known about her forays into the Star Trek fanfic web site stficmbs.com; she had thought she had been sufficiently circumspect with them.
“Well, I know that you would never use company resources for personal activities, but, uh, WandaD might be borrowing your computer to post some fiction. I want you to let ‘her’ know that she has to stop.”
Lois almost didn’t falter. “Who’s WandaD?”
“That isn’t gonna work. You know I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Yodelayheehoo!”
“Ah. So when do the new rules take effect?”
“They’re starting right now. I’m about to make the general announcement, but I wanted to let you know first. Now I don’t want to have to fight the bureaucrats to make them let me keep my favorite reporter, so don’t try to bend these rules – no more fanfic, no more reading feedback, nothing. I’m not even visiting Graceland’s web site anymore. It’s hitting all of us.”
***
Lois and Clark were enjoying a rare chance to eat lunch together at the press club.
“So, Lois, it sounds like WandaD won’t be posting anything during work hours.”
“And neither will Bill’s Fan.” “Bill’s Fan” had been one of the few people to write anything remotely encouraging about her first fanfic.
“I told you before -- I am not Bill’s Fan.”
“Really. I’ve suspected you off and on for years. At first, I just dismissed the idea as silly and too much of a coincidence, and then when I believed it, I respected you enough that I’ve played along with your pretense, but do you really expect me to believe that, considering…?” Lois surreptitiously made the flying-hand motion that was their own private sign for Superman.
“Lois, when we met I barely knew a Klingon from a tribble.” Clark looked around to make sure all was clear and then held up his hand with the middle three fingers extended and whispered, “Kryptonian’s honor!”
“You learned awfully fast, Smallville.”
“You know I can learn super fast when I want to. And I had motivation – I knew you liked the show, and I wanted to be able to talk to you about it.”
Lois playfully adopted a fake German accent when she said “I haff vays of finding things out.”
“Go ahead. I only ever kept one secret from you, and you know this isn’t it. But when you find out that it really isn’t me, you’ll owe me a visit to Chez Pierre’s for some beef bourgignon. Deal?”
“And when I have proof that it is you, we’ll be heading to a day in Hawaii via Big Blue Airline.”
“You’re on.”
***
When they returned back to the bullpen, Lois noticed their young friend across the room. As she approached him, she said “Hey, Jimmy, you weren’t there for Perry’s big announcement. Have you heard that Big Brother is watching and won’t let us have any fun?”
Jimmy blushed. “You mean the new acceptable use policy? Yeah, I know. No more date.com for me here. And I’m having to implement the rules. IT’s short-staffed, so I’ve been helping them tweak the DLP system and the firewall to catch any ‘evil-doers’ trying to use company resources for personal stuff.”
“How ‘bout saying that again in English? I don’t speak computerese.”
“Well, special firewalls called 'proxy servers' will compare anything leaving our network with a list of known non-work-related sites, and also with lists containing common leisure terms – bands’ names, television or sports references, things like that. Of course, the rules are tailored so that the folks writing sports columns will be exempt from the no-sports rule, that sort of thing. Anything that is flagged will be blocked and logged. A human will then check the logs periodically to see whether it really is work-related and will tweak the proxy server to permit similar traffic if it is.”
“You’re kidding! There will be so many things that are incorrectly flagged that any savings made by people not visiting message boards will be more than made up for by the hours spent checking on them.”
Jimmy looked around and lowered his voice. “Promise not to tell anyone? You’re right. This is ‘security theater.’ The data is being collected, but no one will be looking at it until someone is suspected of breaking the rules. Only then will the logs be checked.”
“When will it begin?”
“Oh, they’ve been keeping at least some data for years now; they need it in case there are any claims of hostile office environments or other suspicious activity. The only thing new will be these particular filters; I’ve already started writing some.”
“So you mean that we could see infractions from the past? Maybe you can help me. I’ve, uh, been working undercover on a story off and on for years. I’ve been posting on a Star Trek message board hoping to track down someone going by ‘Bill’s Fan.’ I think he may even work here, but I haven’t been able to catch him. It’s for a story that isn’t urgent, but could be important. I’ve been trying to lure him out by posting stories as WandaD to make him feel comfortable, and then trying to engage in conversation with him.” <Sure, Lois, Jimmy’ll buy that.>
“For years, huh? What story could be so important that you are spending years on it, but never asked me to track him down before now?”
<…Or maybe he won’t.> “Um, I hadn’t wanted to tell anyone. I was afraid they’d steal the story. But I can’t post to the message board at work anymore without others finding out, so I decided to share a little with you. But it’s still incredibly hush, hush. You understand?”
Jimmy’s face fell. “Sure Lois. I understand. You don’t trust me.”
<…Or maybe he will, after all.> “No, Jimmy, it’s not that. It’s that I don’t trust who might be listening. That voice-recorder-pen-thing you showed me some time back made me realize that you never know when others might be listening. I probably shouldn’t even have said as much as I have here. I tell you what. If you really want to know more, then let’s go to the Chocolate Hut right now and I’ll fill you in once we’re there. <And by then, I should have dreamed up a plausible story.> I’ll just leave Clark a note to let him know I’ll be back in an hour.”
***
“All right, Jimmy. Here’s what’s really going on. Clark and I have had a bet for years now that I couldn’t figure out who Bill’s Fan is. I know he knows, but he won’t tell. It’s galled me that I haven’t solved the mystery yet, but I kept figuring that I’d be able to work on this a little at a time, in my few spare moments at the Planet. But since I can’t do it at work and I don’t want Clark to see me doing anything about it at home, I’m in a bind that I hope you can help me with. And since we aren’t supposed to do anything non-work-related at the office, I hadn’t wanted to talk there. So, are you in?” <That’s it, Lois. Stick to the almost-truth.>
“Sure thing. It won’t take me long to write a script to look through the logs. If you let me know some days when Bill’s Fan posted to the message board, I can narrow my search to them. We’ll be able to get the results back in no time.”
Lois ate the last bite of her triple-chocolate-rainbow sundae, looked longingly at the empty glass bowl, and put down her spoon. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get started.”
***
About half an hour after they returned to the Planet, Jimmy approach Lois. “You were right. Bill’s Fan does work with us.”
“I knew it!”
Jimmy grinned and shook his head. “Who’d have thought Perry was almost as much into Star Trek as he is into Elvis?”
“I kn… Wait, what? Perry?” <Why, that sneak! I’ll bet he knew who WandaD was way back when he ‘encouraged’ me about my first fanfic. I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill Bill’s Fan!>
“Can’t you just picture it?” Jimmy turned up an imaginary collar and valiantly attempted to do an Elvis impersonation. “Well you can do anything, but stay off of my Star Fleet boots!”
<Maybe I won’t kill Perry, after all… I’ve a better idea.> “Hmmm. Thanks Jimmy, that’s exactly what I needed. Mind if I borrow your lyrics?”
“I’m not sure how they’d help, but go ahead.”
***
That evening at home, Lois re-read her masterpiece:
Bill’s Fan, this one’s for you. (The idea and a few words came from a mutual colleague of ours.)
Well, it's one for the credits
Two for the show
Three to get ready
Now go, cadet, go
But don't you
Step on my Star Fleet boots.
Well you can do anything,
But stay off of my Star Fleet boots.
Well, you can knock me down
Phase my face
Beam my atoms all over the place
Well do anything that you want to do
But uh-uh, honey, lay off of my boots
And don't you step on my Star Fleet boots.
Well, you can do anything
But stay off of my Star Fleet boots.
You can kill my gagh
Go through pon farr
Drink Saurian brandy
From an old fruit jar
Well do anything that you want to do
But uh-uh, honey, lay off of my boots
And don't you
Step on my Star Fleet boots.
Well, you can do anything
But stay off of my Star Fleet boots.
Bill’s Fan, I know. You know? I also know that while Spock wouldn’t mind such a filk too much (see Charlie X), there would be certain brass in Star Fleet who might try to get someone court-martialed if they were to sing it in the wrong place. Let’s work together for free speech.
Lois hit the return key and sat back, pleased with her work.
Not long afterward, she saw a reply from Bill’s Fan. As she read it, she broke into a smile that didn’t bode well for the Daily Planet’s “admiralty”. A quick phone call to Jimmy, and she was done for the night.
***
As Lois and Clark were logging in to their work computers the next day, Jimmy ran up to them. “Did you hear the news? They removed that change to the acceptable use policy. We can use the computers for personal activities again, provided that doing so doesn’t interfere with our doing our work.”
Clark asked, “What happened?”
“Lois was right. In Bill’s Fan’s, I mean in Perry’s, response to her filk, he wondered whether admiralty sang. I checked our data, and sure enough, some of the bigwigs were playing online poker yesterday. Seems they thought that only us peons would be monitored. So to save face – and their jobs – they reversed the policy.”
Clark smirked as he turned to Lois. “You know, it’s only morning, but I’m already hungry for some beef bourgignon for dinner.”
Lois thought that maybe she would kill Bill’s Fan after all, just for not being Clark. She had really wanted to get lei-ed.
