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Part 2.
EpilogueDaily Planet…“That’s right, Professor Carlton called me about you. I haven’t seen him in…” Perry White looked over Clark’s resume. “Let’s see here. Editor, Smallville Press. Where’s that?”
“Kansas, Mr. White,” Clark explained. He couldn’t believe he was here: The Daily Planet. The best newspaper in the world, interviewing with the Editor-in-Chief, and somewhere wandering about was a brunette Firecracker.
Mr. White’s phone rang, and he held up a finger to Clark before answering it. “Oh, tell him to keep his pants on…” he shouted. “If Carlini’s can’t deliver on time, find a place that can!” Mr. White started to take his pulse, glancing over at Clark. “Can you believe I had to buy a blood pressure monitor last week?”
Clark nodded. “Paava leaves.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The Yolngu tribe in New Guinea eat paava leaves to relieve stress. It puts them in a meditative state. Maybe you should try it,” Clark suggested, hoping to impress this man with his vast knowledge.
“Oh, well, I see you’ve done some traveling.”
“Well…” Clark said with a smile and shrug. “A bit.” He opened his briefcase to pull out his writing samples. “I have some samples of my work.”
“Oh, good,” replied Mr. White, taking the papers from Clark. “Good. Let’s take a look.” He paused at the first one. “The Borneo Gazette: ‘
Mating Rituals of the Knob-Tailed Gecko’?” He swallowed. “Kent, I’m sure these are fascinating stories, but you see, son, this is the Daily Planet…” he started to say, when a woman with a brunette bob burst into his office. “Lois! Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?” He indicated Clark, who was rising out of his seat.
Lois Lane. She was even more beautiful than she had been all those years ago. All those memories and feelings rushed back over him. He still loved her on second sight.
She nodded to Clark, immediately dismissing him. “I think there’s a story here. I think we should have this guy checked out, you know the crazy one from this morning. He was an engineer at EPRAD…”
Clark’s heart, which had rose with anticipation of this meeting, thudded into his shoes. She didn’t remember him. Why would she? He knew her for less than a day all those years ago. For him, not one day went by without him checking the
Daily Planet for her byline and thinking of her. Before that, he had gotten copies of the Metropolis University newspaper sent to Midwest U’s library so he could read her stories. He had been building up his experience, trying to find a place where he fit, but in reality he was working his way here, to her. He always knew she was what he wanted.
“Lois, can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?” Mr. White said, indicating Clark.
Her gaze returned to him as Mr. White introduced them. “Lois Lane… Clark Kent.”
Lois’s eyes widened as a grin appeared, and she grabbed Clark hand, shaking it with enthusiasm. “Clark Kent?
The Clark Kent? Of course, you are. What an honor to finally meet you.”
She knew who he was? As a reporter? “Um… yeah. You too, Ms. Lane.”
“
The Clark Kent?” Mr. White questioned with a brow raised with disbelief.
Uh-oh. That wasn’t a good sign.
“Yes,
the Clark Kent. I’ve been following his career for years,” Lois said, grabbing his portfolio out of Mr. White’s hands.
She had? Why? Did she remember him?
Lois started flipping through the portfolio, and rolled her eyes at his first article. “The Knob-Tailed Gecko story is first? I mean, it’s a cute science piece, but really, first? Oh, please, Perry; don’t tell me you dismissed Mr. Kent here because he had put his stories in chronological order, instead of order of importance? You really should put that story about catching those Jamaican gunrunners towards the top. It was amazing, even though it was one of your early stories. Oh, the human interest piece on the Nigerian Princess before her wedding to…” She waved her hand, searching but coming up short. “What’s his name? I loved the bit when she taught you how to waltz. Then there’s that story about following the smuggled Chinese indentured servants to Gotham City. Top rate. You should really translate it into English though.” She flipped through the stories in his portfolio and bringing those to the forefront. “And, of course, Mr. Kent is the one who scooped me on the Congolese gun runners. I arrived two days after he left.” She shot him a scowl.
Clark’s jaw hung open. His portfolio, she was completely disorganizing it.
“What?” stammered Mr. White, grabbing the file out of her hand, and going through it again.
Lois smiled at Clark and winked.
Did she remember him?
Mr. White glanced up and then between the two of them, his eyes narrowing. He pointed both his middle and index finger at Lois and then moved it to Clark. “How long have you two known each other?”
“You just introduced us, Perry,” Lois said innocently.
Clark smiled, remembering why he had fallen in love with her at first sight.
Mr. White pointed at Lois again. “You, out.”
“You should give him that theatre piece, on trial. He’ll prove himself to you,” Lois said, not budging.
“I assigned
you the theatre piece,” Mr. White reminded her, and pointing towards the door again.
“And? That mushy stuff is his forte, anyway,” Lois said, heading for the door.
Mushy stuff? “Lois, I expect my reporters to do the assignments assigned to
them!” Mr. White barked.
“Just give him the job already; I need him to help me with the Messenger story,” Lois said, not backing down.
“You
want to partner with him?” Mr. White said.
Lois smiled at Clark again. “A reporter of his caliber, definitely. My tenacity. His tact. My cutting the red tape; his following the rules. Metropolis won’t know what hit it.” She shut the door after passing through it.
Mr. White looked at Clark suspiciously, placing his hand on his pulse again. “If she wasn’t the best damn reporter I’ve ever worked with… How long have you known Lois?”
Nope, the editor hadn’t bought Lois’s innocent act.
“One day,” Clark answered truthfully.
Mr. White raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Think you can handle her?” he asked.
“Honestly, no, sir, but I’d die for the chance,” Clark replied, figuring what a pleasant death it would be. Thank goodness, he hadn’t found anything that could harm him.
Mr. White chuckled, and handed Clark back his portfolio. “Couldn’t have asked for a better recommendation than that. She’s tough, but if she’s right…” He grinned. “Okay, I’ll give you a trial run. Ask Lois about the particulars on the theatre piece. We’ll see how you do on that before we go about assigning you a desk.”
Clark smiled and held out his hand. “Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. White.”
“Scoot, before I change my mind,” the editor replied with a shake of his head.
Clark picked up his briefcase and dropped in his portfolio.
As he passed Mr. White, he heard him mumble, “It’ll be like Norcross and Judd again, I swear.”
Clark shut the door to the editor’s office and fixed his eyes on Lois, who was standing next to the conference room. She waved him over.
“Mr. White said you’d give me the particulars on the theatre piece he assigned you,” he said, following her inside.
Lois shut the door and backed him into the table, her body pressed against his and her finger pointed in his face. “It’s taken you long enough to arrive in Metropolis. Nine years, Farm Boy! Nine
long years, I’ve waited for you! Give your eyeteeth to work at the Daily Planet. Ha! Do you know why I’m the reporter I am? Keeping track of you! That’s why. You jump countries faster than a flea infestation, and you’re more invisible than a stealth bomber. I had hoped you’d come to Metropolis upon graduation from Midwest, but, NO, you went and traveled the world, freelance! Do you know how hard it is to track a freelance reporter? I don’t want you to think that I’ve been waiting around for you. I have kissed other guys…”
She had?“Oh, don’t give me that look. You’ve kissed other women.”
Clark shrugged sheepishly. He may have.
“But none of them lived up that kiss you gave me. You not only made my toes curl, it was like you floated me up into the stars,” she said as a dreamy quality came to her voice.
He smiled. Yes, he remembered it well.
“Anyway, after waiting all those years for you to come to me, I started trying to chase you down. I got two Kerth awards because of you, Homespun, trying to find stories to investigate in the countries where you were. I almost caught you in the Congo, too. You couldn’t have stayed there two more lousy days?!” She slapped his arm with her hand. “Finally, I had to use my secret weapon.”
She remembered. Oh, boy, had she remembered. His brow furrowed. “Homespun?”
Lois blushed with a shrug. “Homespun Goodness.”
Oh,
really? Clark smiled, liking that description. Wait. “Secret weapon?”
She grinned. “By the way, tell your mom I just finished all the jam she sent me for Christmas.”
“You contacted my
mom?”
“First things first,” Lois said, her finger pointing at him again. “You still a virgin?”
The color drained from his face. “
What?!” How did Firecracker know about
that?
She pressed her lips together. “Blondie said you wanted to wait until marriage.”
Clark’s eyes widened as he gulped. He would kill Lana! Okay, he wouldn’t, but it was very tempting. Was
that how Lois thought he was different from other guys? So,
what exactly was she asking?
Lois lifted up his left hand and threaded her fingers with his.
Oh. He smiled. “The position’s still open if you want it.”
She leaned forward and set her lips on his, murmuring before her kiss, “How about we see if you can curl them twice?”
***The End***Let me know what you think?
Comments Gratitude: Many thanks for my Beta readers Mrs. Luthor and IolantheAlias for correcting my errors. BTW, guys, I changed some things since you last read through it.
Disclaimer: This story is inspired by the characters created by Jerry Siegel & Joe Shuster as they were portrayed on the
Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman television series, developed by Deborah Joy LeVine. The characters do not belong to me; they belong to themselves (although Warner Bros, DC Comics, and the heirs to Siegel and Shuster might disagree). Many thanks to all the writers on the above-referenced show, especially Deborah Joy LeVine, from whose wonderful Pilot I borrow dialogue directly.
Walt Disney World Resort is owned and operated by The Walt Disney Company. All Disney characters, songs from any ride or film, any facts regarding or from Disney’s films (such as Dumbo’s feather), facets of the Walt Disney World Resort, and any of its rides, including but not limited to Splash Mountain, El Rio del Tiempo (the Mexican pavilions time tunnel of love), Pirates of the Caribbean, It’s a Small World, and Epcot Center’s Spaceship Earth, still remain with The Walt Disney Company. I have only borrowed the location (or a modified alt-world facsimile of it from the early 1980s) as the backdrop to my story. I have gathered most of my information about the Walt Disney World Resort in the early 1980’s from my memories, and from Wikipedia (
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walt_Disney_World), and owe them a debt of gratitude.
The Splash Mountain ride described in my story did not exist at any Disney park in the early 1980s. Because the Splash Mountain ride from Disneyland inspired this particular story, the single file boat was the one described in the story, and not the double-seater boat that is currently in use at Disney World’s Splash Mountain. Since the main characters both lived in the Eastern section of the USA, it made more sense for them to visit Disney World than Disneyland.
“Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah” music by Allie Wrubel, lyrics by Ray Gilbert from the Disney movie “Song of the South” sung by James Baskett.
“It’s a Small World” music and lyrics by Robert B. Sherman and Richard M. Sherman; sung by the Disney Children’s Chorus.
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