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Beautiful.

As promised here's the first part of the next story, I'll try to post the second part the day after tomorrow. FDK is always appreciated.

Chapter 1



“Goodbye, Mad Dog Lane…”

I have to leave her behind, too.

The words linger, haunting me as I return to the silence of my apartment. Not only the Kents but the whole town of Smallville had welcomed me with open arms, warmth spreading from every corner, every gaze, every word.

In contrast, Metropolis seems cold and foreign, almost hostile.

From the entrance of my apartment I let my gaze drift through the dimly lit living room. The familiar furniture, decoration and photos take on an otherworldly quality, alien, as if they belong to someone else, a whole woman, not the fractured wreck I am now.

Is it really me in the pictures?

On the coffee table a notebook catches my gaze, its worn cover bearing your name. My heart clenches as I recognize it.

You left it here, mere days before the Planet's destruction, then it stayed here, forgotten. I had intended to return it, but the countless arguments that distracted us made it difficult. Following our last fight I hurled it across the room in a fit of frustration.

Only now I understand that I wasn’t really angry at you, I was disappointed in myself, for letting my life, my routines be destroyed. For feeling helpless in the face of losing the Daily Planet. For not being able to be the friend you needed.

As I stand amidst the wreckage of my existence, memories flood back - the notebook, a silent witness of our shared story. I wish, within those pages would lie the answers I’ve been yearning for.

How do I survive saying goodbye, when the mere thought of leaving you behind only twists the dagger deeper into my soul?

I wrench my gaze away from this tangible relic of your existence here, the door slamming shut behind me as I abandon my luggage, heavy with Martha's comfort food and mementos of a life past.

Exhausted, I collapse onto the loveseat, scooping up your notebook as I pass and clutching it tightly to my chest, as if it might reveal your final thoughts. But the world swims, obscured by the tears brimming in my eyes.

The warmth of Smallville‘s embrace feels a world away, and the love your parents showed me is unable to fill the void that’s engulfing me.

After weeks in your childhood home‘s warm atmosphere, nothing in my apartment seems to offer any similar sense of comfort or welcome, despite Perry‘s and Jimmy‘s meticulous care during my absence.

I can’t stop the deep sigh from emerging at the thought of Perry, Jimmy… they’re good friends, great friends even.

But they're not you.

Perry picked me up from the airport.

His voice still echoes in my memory as he shared important news, every word carefully chosen, as if he feared I’d break under their weight.

~~~

“Honey,” he began, in a subdued tone, “I know you are probably not ready to hear this… but I have received a message from Franklin Stern.” Despite everything, he couldn’t contain his excitement. “He reconsidered buying the Planet. Yesterday he signed the paperwork and it looks like we could be back in business in a few weeks.”

Silence filled the car as I stared out the window. Then I replied, my voice barely a whisper. “The Planet… coming back?” The words both a comfort and a pain.

Perry nodded, his face lighting up with a rare smile. “Yes, Lois. And there's more. He wants you back on the team.”

My eyes filled with tears, my voice trembling. “Me? But Perry, I don’t know if I can do this… without him.”

Perry reached out, his hand gentle on my shoulder. “I know it’s hard, Lois. But think about it. The Planet needs you… We need you.”

I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. “I can’t walk into that newsroom and not see Clark’s desk. It’s too much, Perry. It’d be like losing him all over again.”

Perry’s expression softened, his own eyes misting. “I understand, Lois. But remember, Clark would want you to keep fighting, to keep that fire in you burning. He always loved your passion for journalism.”

With an aching heart I replied, “I’ll think about it, Perry. I promise.”

And then I couldn’t contain the sobs anymore.

~~~

I can step back into the role of Lois Lane, but the sight of your vacant desk - or worse, your desk filled by another reporter - could shatter what little of me remains and extinguish the last flickers of Mad Dog Lane.

During the past few years, she had become an integral part of me, fighting fiercely and passionately for justice, defending the innocent with adamant resolve. But life has a way of unraveling even the strongest bonds.

It would be another Goodbye. Lane and Kent are forever lost.

Weighed down by my memories, I slowly get up and replace the notebook, focusing instead on the tasks ahead. I need to store all the perishable goods Martha has given to me.

But before I can proceed there’s something I need to do first. As promised, I dial your parents’ number to tell them I arrived back home safely.

Returning from their haven, I hoped the weeks spent amidst our shared memories of you would help me repair myself, to get rid of the feeling of being torn from the inside. They embraced me, allowed me into their memories and welcomed mine.

The world insists on spinning and I, a reluctant participant, find myself grappling with the ghost of your absence, which lingers, an indelible stain on my soul.

While I’m waiting for them to pick up, I begin to open the first zipper.

Atop lies the football, a gift from your parents. I pick it up, feeling the rough surface, and let myself be distracted. Its leather, softened by years of play, carries the faint scent of sweat and grass, as if it holds the echo of games long past. Childhood memories are etched into the seams, stitched by hands that will never grip it again. There’s a musky, familiar smell, leather mixed with dirt and time, that pulls at something deep inside, a longing for the days when this ball was still in motion, when the one who held it was still here.

The phone still rings and I clutch the receiver, my heart pounding when I hear someone pick up.

Your mother's voice, fragile and frail yet familiar, fills the void. "Hello?" she says and I can almost see her standing in the cozy farmhouse kitchen, sunlight streaming through the window, her hands trembling.

"Martha," I whisper, my voice catching. "It's me, Lois." The words tumble out, a flood of emotions I can't contain. I’ve only been gone a few hours, but already I want to tell her so much but I can barely even force the words out.

"I'm home," I continue, my voice breathless. "Perry dropped me off." The football slips from my fingers as I again sink onto the loveseat, burdened by countless remembrances overwhelming me from the memory-laden bags. Martha's silence stretches across the line, heavy with unspoken words. I imagine her clutching the phone, tears in her eyes, missing her son as much as I do. My gaze falls on the Smallville high sweater lying atop my clothes and I pull it from its place, clutching it tightly, stroking over the soft, worn fabric.

“Lois,” she finally says, her voice breaking. “We’ll always be only a phone call away, should you need us.” Her words pierce my heart and I close my eyes. “And you’re always welcome in Smallville,“ she added.

“Thank you,” I blurt out. After a short pause I add, “Perry said the Planet will be back open soon. He wants me back on the team. But it feels wrong without Clark… There are so many memories of him there. How will I survive, watching someone else at his desk?” Tears burn in my eyes, staining the sweater as they fall.

The silence on the other end of the line is profound. I can almost hear Jonathan in the background, his steady presence offering comfort. "Perry will understand, honey," Martha whispers. "I’m sure he’ll give you all the time you need and if you can’t return he’ll understand that too." And suddenly, the weight of it all, our loss, their love, the secrets, crashes over me. I bury my face in the sweater, inhaling the scent of memories and letting the tears flow.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice raw. “For everything.“

Martha's fragile voice responds, “Oh, honey…” and I know we're connected by more than grief.

As our voices crackle through the phone line, the image of an invisible thread connecting us, covering the distance, conjures in my mind. We exchange whispered reassurances, promising to call if the buden of our grief ever becomes too heavy. With that unspoken pact hanging in the air, we reluctantly hang up, severing the thread.

I carefully unpack the bags, each item from Smallville a relic of your past. The room fills with memories, the scent of your cologne, the worn edges of old books, the photograph of us laughing together. These fragments surround me, a bittersweet embrace, as if you’re still here, whispering secrets to me. And yet, I wonder about the weight we carry - the invisible baggage that shapes our choices, our hearts heavy with love, loss and longing. How will the weight of your death shape my decisions in the future?

Half an hour later all bags are emptied and stored away with a few chosen items scattered around, still in need of a place where I can put them.

While scanning the room for a fitting place I spot my Kerths, hidden behind glass. I can’t help but remember the days when my work persona, ‘Mad Dog Lane,’ was forged. She emerged during my early days at the Planet, shaped by Claude and refined by colleagues who prioritized sensationalism over truth.

The pseudonym, whispered by colleagues in both mockery and awe, served as an armor and a curse. Mad Dog Lane battled injustice with a ferocity that allowed no vulnerability. Yet behind the headlines and bylines, I was Lois Lane, a woman who wielded her pen like a blade, slicing through half-truths and deceit to hide her own fragile, scarred heart.

I open the cabinet and take one Kerth out, it has a fine layer of dust on it. Before everything… I used to clean them weekly.

And then there was Claude, the ill-fated affair that left emotional wreckage in its wake. Mad Dog Lane became my guardian, snapping at judgmental co-workers. They labeled me the “ice-queen” and “frigid,” ignorant to the pain hidden behind my aggressive facade. All the lies had tainted their perception, leaving little room for my side of the story.

The memory of him resurfaces, vivid and raw. I'm back in the bustling newsroom, the scent of his perfume, Armani’s eau pour homme, thick in the air, clinging like an invisible fog. The sharp bite of citrus mingled with the heavy, floral notes of spice, unsettling in its familiarity. It had been intoxicating then, much like his charm, luring me closer, wrapping around me until I couldn’t see the truth behind his lies.

Claude, with his French accent and sly smile, had woven a tangled web - a master manipulator. His charm was magnetic, drawing people to him like insects to a venus flytrap, helplessly trapped in the sweetness before they realized it was poison.

~~~

"Claude," I'd confronted him one evening, my voice edged with frustration. "Why do you twist the truth? Why play these games?" The thought of our shared night and his betrayal leaving a bitter taste in my mouth

He'd leaned back in his chair, eyes glinting. "Because truth is malleable, my dear," he'd replied. "It bends to our desires, our fears. And people? They crave stories, not facts. As reporters, we control the narrative."

The thought made my stomach twist. I'd wanted to argue, to shake sense into him. But Claude was a maestro, conducting symphonies of deception. He'd whispered half-truths, spinning melodic illusions, and my colleagues had danced to his tune. The interns, wide-eyed and eager, had become unwitting pawns. The young women - bright, capable - had been silenced, their voices drowned in the discord of office politics.

"Fact-checking?" Claude had scoffed. "That's for amateurs. We're artists, ma cherie. We paint reality with broad strokes, leaving room for interpretation."

And so, they reveled in gossip, embellished, embroidered, stitched together narratives that fit their biases. Each added a note, composing a melody of intrigue. The unrequited love affair, the envy of a young, green reporter, passion and longing hidden beneath polished exteriors, it all became part of the newsroom lore.

"Remember," Claude had whispered smugly, "we're not just reporters. We're storytellers. And stories? They endure."

I'd nodded, torn between admiration and disdain, the bitter taste in my mouth kept me from answering. But I began to wonder every time I watched my colleagues scribble headlines: How many truths had we sacrificed at the altar of storytelling? How many lives had been reshaped by our pens?

~~~

Claude's legacy lives on, his long shadow still looming over me even today. Even now, thinking about him makes my skin crawl. I’m unable to shake it off. In the end, that experience shaped me into a seasoned reporter, a three-time Kerth Award winner by the age of thirty, who wore death threats like battle scars. It made me sharper, tougher, more relentless. But it also left me hollow. In this world of half-truths and sensationalism, his betrayal remains a bitter reminder: verify, question and stand up for what's right... but trust no one.

I've always been chasing the truth - but at what cost?

In a sudden wave of fury, I throw the award to the floor, sweep the others from their place to follow the first. They clatter, one after the other, shattering into pieces. Trophies meant to represent my success now lie broken, useless like me. Symbols of a career built on strength, but also on the ashes of my trust.

Mad Dog Lane. She’s the one who helped me survive. The part of me that chose defiance over surrender, that fought tooth and nail, ready to bite someone’s head off before they could wound me again. But even Mad Dog couldn't silence the whispers, couldn't stitch up the damage left in the wake of his deception. My reputation lay in fragments, as shattered as the awards now scattered at my feet.

So, I built walls - impenetrable fortresses of ice and fire. Outwardly fierce, inwardly fragile. My heart hid behind those defenses, with Mad Dog standing guard, swearing to never let anyone breach the walls again. I believed if I could keep my emotions locked away, I wouldn’t have to fear being hurt.

I thought I was protecting myself. Instead, I became the ice queen in their stories - cold, untouchable, invulnerable. But where did that get me?

Now, my only confidants are a shoal of fish, endlessly circling in their glass sanctuary. They swim in silence, listening as I whisper my frustrations and dreams into the void. They don't judge, don't betray, don’t lie but they also don’t answer, don’t tease, don’t encourage. They are the only witnesses to the woman beneath the armor - cracked, weary, still longing for something more.

I was sure it was right that way - safe behind my walls - until you came along, Clark. With your earnest smile and unwavering belief in truth, you reminded me what it felt like to have a friend. To be a friend. You made me realize that there was still warmth in the world, despite the ice I had built around myself.

It can’t have been easy for you.

Mad Dog Lane barked, flashed her teeth, threatened to tear you apart, but you didn’t flinch. She growled and snapped at you, warning you to stay away. Yet you stayed, quiet, steadfast, never wavering. You saw through my defenses. You didn’t push. You didn’t demand. You just... stayed.

You, Clark, always by my side, a silent force of nature. Unassuming, yet powerful in your presence, you unraveled every mechanism I had carefully constructed. Mad Dog Lane recoiled, sensing the danger you posed to her fragile existence. But I, Lois, the woman behind the armor, felt something stir inside me. A warmth, a vulnerability that defied everything I’d promised myself I’d never feel again.

And then, when tragedy struck, it was all my doing. My own bad decisions, my own insecurities, manipulated by Lex, came crashing down around me. My heart had been a battlefield long before you entered the ring. Paul, Claude, Lex just took advantage of the wounds that were already there. Lex meticulously orchestrated the collapse, and I walked right into the trap.

I had built my life on Mad Dog’s defiance, but it wasn’t enough to save me from my own worst impulses. I let fear guide my hand. I dismissed your affections, so blinded by my need to protect myself that I couldn't see what was right in front of me. Foolishly, I proclaimed my love for the hero you became, but not the man who stood by my side.

When the hero turned away, I ran into the arms of the villain. I let myself fall, accepting his proposal as if it could somehow patch up the gaping hole inside me. But even as I prepared to walk down that aisle, there was a part of me that knew it was wrong. And then, the cruel twist of fate struck, ripping away any hope of reconciliation before I had the chance to make things right.

The fire that fueled Mad Dog Lane flickered and died, extinguished by the weight of grief. The passion, the drive, the fury that had once burned so fiercely inside me, gone. In its place, a hollow, icy void. Grief settled in like a relentless frost, consuming every last vestige of warmth I had left. Anger, once my constant and trusty companion, now gnawed at me from the inside, leaving nothing but emptiness in its wake.

Now, those gossip mongers have even more fuel for their fire. They were right to call me names because after your death, whatever spark had defined me, whatever made me ‘Mad Dog Lane’, was gone. All that’s left is a cold, paralyzing despair. The ice in my heart has taken over, and it feels like nothing can melt it. Not anymore.

T. B. C.

Oh boy, I'm sorry I left you waiting.... I got distracted by a few things (RL, a new story...)

I promise the next parts will come quicker. This will be the last part of this story - the beginning of the next story will be posted immediately after this, to make up for the long wait. Also thanks for the feedback on this story, and I'm sorry that I didn't answer to that. As I said... the distractions are everywhere.

Chapter 4

Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.

The knock I’d been dreading reverberates through the room, and a moment later, Perry materializes in the doorframe. His eyes meet mine, and I see my grief mirrored in his eyes. Beyond a curt greeting, there are no words; nothing is needed to convey our feelings. His mouth moves, but silence prevails.

There’s nothing left to say.

Grateful for the quiet, he encircles my shoulders with a gentle arm, allowing me to weep in the privacy of our shared space before facing the others.

Down the creaking stairs we go, out of the house, and toward the waiting black rental where the Kents and Jimmy sit.

It is time.

My gaze lingers on the farmhouse, too early to say goodbye. I yearn to retreat, lock myself in your room, and pretend you are still around the corner, in the barn, anywhere but gone.

Instead, I settle into the backseat beside the Kents, silently thankful not to drive. These past days, we’d talked endlessly, but today demands solitude. You, the passionate, gentle, loving man who has found the way to my heart. Had I stayed in Metropolis, I wonder how I’d survive.

Martha’s hand clasps mine, Jonathan’s secure grip completing our lifeline. We are the sole witnesses to your true self, even if I’ve pieced it together too late. Together, we hold each other up, even when despair seems to overwhelm us.

As the car pulls away, I stare out the window at the pond where you'd faced Trask. In my dreams for months afterward, he’d return, aiming the gun at you. At that moment, time froze – nothing moves until Trask crumples, gasping his last breath. I'd rushed to hug you, needing to feel your safety in a tangible way.

My gaze is glued to my hands, staring but not seeing while I try to ignore the warm and beautiful summer day.

Now, during those long talks with your parents I finally understood the relevance of that weekend. Your papercut reaction, the odd allergy, the difference in your behavior - Kryptonite.

It is all so obvious now.

As we say our goodbyes today, I know you’d want me to carry on. To be happy, to chase my Pulitzer dream. But without you, am I still that woman? The award's allure faded when you were no longer by my side.

Because of you, I transformed into a new version of myself, a woman who no longer needed to bite off heads to prove her worth. For the first time, acceptance and respect enveloped me in a way I’d never known. With you I didn’t feel the urge to be ‘Mad Dog Lane’ to earn respect.

Reflecting on our time together, I realize you appreciated my strengths and respected my vulnerabilities, perhaps even treasured me more because of them. Prior to you, love and worth were currencies I had to earn. Daddy's hug required good grades and Mother's approval demanded perfection. Even at work, Perry's respect often came with the caveat that we were only as good as our next story.

But you changed that. You taught me to accept help and to embrace vulnerability without fear of judgment. Your unwavering presence during moments of danger strengthened me; when I harbored a fugitive you urged to call the police but backed me up in front of Perry, when I faced threats you offered to protect me without forcing me to follow your advice. Every incident underscored your trust in me.

Yet, when you needed protection, I was about to get in bed with the devil.

I let you down.

Inviting you into my life felt dangerous, and I resisted fiercely. But my efforts proved futile, and now I grapple with a whirlwind of emotions.

I thought I'd learned not to depend on men. The lessons from Daddy who left our family during my teenage years and the betrayal by friends like Paul and Linda taught me a harsh lesson. The Daily Planet became my surrogate family, until Claude shattered that bond.

And then there was Lex, the man who manipulated my world, presenting himself as my savior and anchor. He taught me not to trust my own instincts.

I accepted his proposal, blinded by the remnants of my shattered reality. As he slid the ring onto my finger, I forced excitement to mask the unease within. But deep down, agony whispered beneath the endearments.

Why didn't I heed my heart's warnings? Why didn't I listen to you? Perhaps it would have spared you pain, kept you alive.

Now, as we approach the chapel near the graveyard, I wonder why you revealed your feelings when I wasn't ready. Why the secrecy about your identity? How could I be so blind?

If only I'd seen the truth - the two men I loved were one and the same.

Martha's encouragement to tell me about your feelings and even Superman's true identity must have influenced you to tell me in the park.The feelings of guilt gnawing at my heart, I grapple with conflicting emotions, torn between anger and longing. To hate you for your numerous deceits would simplify everything, but my heart refuses to make it easy for me.

Why did you lie? Did you doubt my strength, my ability to bear your secret? Or was it trust that faltered? I replay our moments - the partnership, the camaraderie - trying to reconcile Superman with Clark, my friend.

Tears blur my vision, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I fight the memories, the guilt, the questions. Forward, I tell myself. To overcome hurt, I must look ahead. But can I? Letting you go feels like severing a vital part of my existence.

The funeral, a futile hope for closure. Perry, Jimmy, and many of our colleagues gather to pay respects. The chapel blooms with white lilies, roses, and chrysanthemums, their scent mingling with grief. The empty casket lies before us, a vessel for an unsung hero. Where have they taken your body? The question echoes, unanswered.

Metropolis will celebrate Superman, but the details are kept a secret to protect his remains.

My allegiance remains here, with your parents. Martha and Jonathan, once unbreakable, are now fragile. Their love pierces my heart. As a reporter, I've encountered grieving parents, but this, knowing your story, understanding their love, is different. They couldn't conceive naturally. They embraced you as their own, from the moment they laid eyes on the precious gift from the stars, the spaceship that carried you. Had you sprouted tentacles instead of superpowers, their love would have remained unwavering. But now, their hearts ache doubly.

They sit beside me in the small chapel, their grief palpable. Perry, stalwart and silent, occupies the seat on my other side. His hand rests on my shoulder, a steady presence during my moments of overwhelming sorrow. Martha, too, clings to me, drawing strength as she gives it.

Perry, aged by loss, glances at me. His stern newsroom demeanor hides vulnerability known only to those who truly understand him. Jimmy, once full of sparkle, wears silence now. Your absence transformed him, emboldening him beyond delivery boy duties, into a peer.

Jack, too, transformed. You became his older brother, offering a chance when others dismissed him, a trust forged through friendship. You even found a foster family for his brother. Remarkably, you forgave him for stealing your most prized possession.

In this church, we gather, bound by the loss of an extraordinary man.

Regardless of guise, you made our world better. Your legacy endures. We mourn, remember, and love you. Your parents asked if I'd write this eulogy, but words failed me. How can I capture the essence of a soul so vast, a heart so giving? You transformed our lives, transcending your earthly guise.

Perry steps up to the podium, taking a deep breath before he begins. “Dear friends, colleagues, and beloved family - Martha, Jonathan, and Lois,”

“About a year ago, Clark walked into my office, presenting me with an article on the ‘Mating Rituals of the Knob-Tailed Gecko.’ As you can probably imagine, this wasn’t an article you’d typically find in the Planet. Despite Professor Carlton’s endorsement, I had nothing to offer him, so I sent him away, but I hoped our paths would cross again. I could see Clark’s passion flowing through his words. Even when I couldn’t hire him, he remained undeterred. He brought another story, about a soon-to-be-demolished theater. It touched hearts without sentimentality. He convinced me with his work.” Perry pauses.

My throat tightens; that was the story I declined. Secretly, I had admired his writing style.

“In the ensuing months, Clark surprised us all. At the Daily Planet, we felt privileged to know him. One particular instance stands out in my mind. There was a time when a colleague was going through a personal crisis. Without hesitation, Clark stepped in, offering not just a listening ear but also practical support. He stayed late to help with their workload, ensuring they didn’t fall behind. His actions were a testament to his compassion and thoughtfulness. Clark’s boundless love was evident in the way he treated everyone with kindness and respect, regardless of their position or status. He had an uncanny ability to make each person feel valued and understood.”

Perry captures Clark’s essence perfectly: compassion, thoughtfulness, boundless love.

And yet, there was more to Clark Kent than met the eye. He was our unsung hero, quietly making a difference. His articles weren’t just ink on paper; they were lifelines for the people of Metropolis. When disaster struck, Clark was there, not as Superman, but as the man who cared deeply about this city and its people.

But it wasn’t just about the stories; it was about justice. Clark believed in truth, even when it was inconvenient.

And then there were the small moments - the way he’d bring me coffee, the encouraging notes he left on our desks, the way he’d listen when we needed someone to talk to. Clark was more than a colleague; he was family.

“His humility was astounding. He never sought recognition, preferring to let others take the credit. But we knew. We knew that behind those glasses was a man with a heart as big as the city he loved. So, as we say goodbye to Clark Kent, let us remember not just the reporter, but the friend who made our lives better. Clark, wherever you are, thank you for being our light in the darkest of times.”

Following the ceremony we walk to the cemetery in silence.

Next to the open grave, Martha stops, knees buckling. Jonathan and Perry steady her. My own legs waver, weakened by grief. What am I doing here? How do I say goodbye? I yearn for your sweater, a tangible piece of you. Maybe, just for a while, I'll cling to hope, hope that you'll reappear, fill this void.

As the coffin rests in the grave, reality eludes me. For one more glimpse of Clark's smile, I'd give everything.

Clark, I love you... forever.

Goodbye.

FDK can go below

I'm glad to be back in this series too!

Though sometimes I think it'd be fun if they just gave up on the timeline. I'd love to hear about the secret underground lair that stores all of their combined memories, triggers waiting for their pull.

• They could get therapy for Resplendent Man before he tries to commit suicide (still resulting in a story).
• The faulty power connection that foils the Whine Whine Whine caper (still resulting in a story).
• The foiled Planet bombing (still resulting in a story).
• Senator What's-his-name indicted before the Tsunami vote (still resulting in a story).
• Lucy fixed up with a nice guy before she met Johnny Corbin (still resulting in Ellen pitching a hissy fit).
• Them finding themselves on Intergang's priority hit list because of their overall interference...

This is an old story. I didn't find FDK thread, so I created one: Anybody's Baby by Annie M.

Full story: Anybody's Baby

QUOTES:

*A new year

*A newborn baby

*A new house

*A new job

*A new lifestyle
Doers that count?

*A resolution (kept or not)
And this one?

*A new (anything not listed above)
A new Mayor?

Sorry for the question. I guess I didn't pay enough attention.

Andreia

1.
2. unsure!

3.
4. nope...don't know.

5. eek no.

6.
7. This one is familiar.... but not sure....


Ahh I am so bad at this. 😬

1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
Recomendations:

2023 Ficathon: Dancing With Superman for BlindPassenger by Toomi8

I'm really enjoying your story. Hope you'll post again soon.

Answers and recommendations for CHALLENGE Stories go here!
(Answers revealed on Jan. 25, when the next quiz is posted.)

Good luck and have fun!

Welcome to the 2025 Kerth Quiz: Challenge Story

SPIFFY DISCLAIMER THINGY!: All the stories featured in this quiz qualify for the Best Waffy Story, but this quiz is not a stamp of recommendation for nomination. There are more fantastic stories which qualify for this category, but this quiz only covers 7 randomly chosen ones.
(Instructions are blatantly copied/linked from previous Kerth Quizzes.)

RECOMMENDATIONS: Don't forget that recommendations for other favorite eligible stories are *very* welcome and encouraged! So don't forget to add these in a section after your guesses!

QUIZ RULES: One point each for getting the story and author from the quote. Plus, shiny gold stars for those who recognize their own stories. Please don't forget to mention which number you're answering. Rule recap: Open hard drive and open boards (+AO3!), *don't* forget to snip out the excerpts in your replies, and don't forget the spoiler tag when you post in the replies thread.
CATEGORY: This award honors the extra creativity required to craft a story around a certain set of parameters. This includes all stories written in response to challenges and ficathons posted on the Lois and Clark Fanfic Message Board (any challenge regardless of the year it was posted; but only story responses that were posted in 2024 are eligible). This also includes Discord dares and specific request fulfillments.

The DEADLINE for entries for this quiz is SATURDAY, JANUARY 25, 2025, by 11:59 p.m (Eastern Time Zone).

Here’s the full list of Eligible Stories.

Here are the full quiz instructions: Countdown to Kerth Quizzes Extended Instructions and Disclaimers.

Please post your answers HERE.

Good luck!
Evie

__________________________


🏆 EXCERPT #1:
“He can’t stay here.” Lois folded her arms across her chest as Krypto bounded into her apartment, running straight to her sofa and standing up on it, tail wagging madly. “My apartment’s not pet friendly either.”

“You used to have a cat,” Clark argued, closing her apartment door behind him.

Lois frowned. “That was…years ago. They’ve changed the policy since then. I’m sure of it.”

“Mrs. Newton down the hall has that parakeet. And your upstairs neighbor has that yappy dog. And you have fish.” He reminded her.

“Fish? Fish aren’t pets. They’re purely… decorative.”

Krypto began digging at her sofa.

“Hey! Cut that out!” Lois yelled.

Krypto barked loudly in response, leaping to the other sofa.

“Off the sofa, Krypto,” Clark commanded him, and Krypto immediately jumped off and ran to Lois, rolling onto the floor in front of her and baring his belly.

“See? He likes you.”

Lois groaned, kneeling to pat the dog. “What am I supposed to do with him while we’re at work?”

Clark shrugged. “We’ll get a dog sitter. Or put him in doggy daycare.”

“Doggy daycare!” Lois scoffed.

“Please, Lois… it’s just until we get our own place. Once we’re married and have a house, he’ll have a big yard to run around in, and we can play fetch and–”

Her eyes grew big. “We’re getting a house and a yard?”

Clark gulped. Not this again, he thought. “Uh, well…maybe? I mean…if you want a house and a yard?”


🏆 EXCERPT #2:
It happened as it had to happen: they agreed to a bet. The winner was allowed to decide the rest of the evening’s planning - and (that had been Clark's condition) had to publicly admit to the loser that they were in the wrong.

Lois was...less enthusiastic about that in particular, but eventually agreed. Anything else would have been far too close to conceding a possible defeat, after all.

Lois looked at the clock nervously. Only 25 minutes left. "Clark, where are you?" she murmured to herself.

As if he had heard her (which, she had to admit, was entirely possible), she heard the familiar "swoosh" sound, and Clark stood - in the Superman suit - in the living room of the house.

And he clearly needed a shower. Damn it! And she couldn't even come join him because that would inevitably mean a massive delay. Life simply wasn't fair.

"I'm almost ready!" she heard Clark call from the direction of the bathroom.

Five minutes later, Clark emerged from the bathroom, clean and dressed for the evening.

“Honey, it’s a little late,” he remarked.

"Oh really? I did not notice at all." She couldn't resist a little sarcasm.

“Well, I'm afraid we won't be able to do it with the car anymore. We'll probably have to resort to the air alternative, if you don't mind..."

Lois didn't. It was the simplest, most practical solution. She agreed - which had nothing at all to do with the fact that she was able to snuggle particularly close to Clark's chest and bury her hands in his hair for the next few minutes. In no way.



🏆 EXCERPT #3:
Streaky: Remember how big his uncle’s lab was? It was crammed with many shiny boxes and gadgets! Anyhow, a moon round* before the big boom, he kept talking about, I was exploring…

Krypto: Happiness! Looking for a squeaky snack?

Streaky: Sometimes one or two might escape their cages. Yum! None were running free. On this particular day, I found a large device my staff member was working on… a shiny metal box.

Krypto: Oh! That was something he called a test rocket or was it sprocket…?

Streaky: Big buddy, please stop interrupting.

Krypto: Sorry.

Streaky: I watched from my favorite perch until he went away. The metal box was glistening, and it was big enough that both of us could have fit into! After walking around and sniffing for a minute or two – I thought squeaky snacks might be hiding in there – I decided to hop in!

Krypto whimpered in alarm but said nothing. Pepper purred loudly in response. Clark noticed the exchange and again thought that maybe, just maybe, there was more to his dog than met the eye. Pepper continued purring loudly, ignoring the curious glances of his substitute staff person.

Streaky: I had no idea my staff person was priming the box to be launched. He did not see me get into the box. The top clanged down and the next thing I knew, a funny air came into the box. I slept for a long time and then woke up in a field in this town. Mrs. Harper was taking a walk in the field … or rather she called it a ‘park’…and found me wandering around. She fussed over me quite a bit. Something about ‘bad staff’ leaving me alone. Anyway, after a stay in a place with smelly cages, my new female staff brought me here.

Krypto: Oh! That must have been the uncle’s test ship. Good thing the ship was sent here. Now we can be friends again. Do you like her?

Streaky: She is nice. Wish she didn’t dress me up all the time and call me fuzzy britches!

Clark watched as the two animals got into another exchange of soft yelps and meows. They were good to have around and pleasant company. Maybe he should consider getting a cat to keep Krypto company?


🏆 EXCERPT #4:
"I'm really grateful you're here, Clark... but why are you here? It's late,” she asked, pulling the blankets over her scantily clad body. She was wearing her pink silk short set. The camisole hung down a bit, the straps always falling off her shoulders.

“I couldn’t sleep. I started walking aimlessly through Metropolis. I realized I was heading toward your apartment, when the aroma of this hidden bakery stopped me in my tracks, I couldn’t help myself,” Clark explained as he stood up.

Lois noticed as Clark retreated out of her bedroom and heart felt broken once again. Luckily, seconds later he returned with a cup and treat in hand.

“I remember a conversation we had a few weeks ago about peppermint and chocolate. You said you loved those little Andes mints, but hadn’t tried a peppermint mocha yet. So I found a bakery that had them along with chocolate croissants,” he explained, standing a few feet from her bed now.

She grinned as he held out the gifts to her, and suddenly the embarrassment of him seeing her in silky pajamas didn’t matter. This man was a gift. Lois tossed the blankets off her and stood up. Within a second, she was inches away from him, and she reached over and kissed him on the cheek. Then she took the treats out of his hand and disappeared out of the bedroom.

“Clark, if you hurry, I might share,” she stated. The memories of the nightmares disappeared as the aroma of heaven overwhelmed her senses. Now she felt lighter and before she took a sip of the peppermint mocha, she remembered the feel of his skin on her lips. Yes, the nightmares were over, and Clark was alive and a reminder of how her fantasies could become reality.


🏆 EXCERPT #5:
When Jimmy returned to the copier room, he officially did not see Cat Grant sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by uncrumpled papers, the empty fishbowl in her lap.

“He's not in here!” She looked up at him. “Did you get everyone’s names?”

“Everyone,” Jimmy confirmed. “There were a few opt-outs, but CK definitely wasn't one of them. Maybe somebody picked him already.”

Cat looked startled. “Some names were picked already?”

“Well, yeah.” Jimmy reached down and took the fishbowl from her. “People have been picking names from it since this morning.”

“Unbelievable!” Cat sprang to her feet and raced out the door, grabbing a random piece of crumpled paper almost as an after-thought.

“Hey, wait! What about that phone-number?!” Jimmy called, but the door swung shut behind her.


🏆 EXCERPT #6:
“Mom doesn’t like it when you get on the couch, Krypto,” Jon said but he continued scratching.

Krypto just huffed and tilted his head to give the boy better access.

Suddenly, a flurry of footsteps preceded another small human into the room. Clark’s girl-pup, Laura, stopped and looked around before spying Jon and plopping herself on the boy’s other side.

“Jon! Jon! Read my story!” Laura insisted. She pushed a piece of paper into her brother’s lap.

Jon frowned and pushed the paper back. “Have Mom read it.”

“Mom’s at work.”

“Then, have Dad read it.”

“Dad’s making dinner.”

“Dad can read it in like a second.”

“But I want you to read it. Please!”

Krypto huffed again and looked up at the pups. He wished they would stop bickering.

Jon rolled his eyes but put his device down and took the paper. “Fine. What’s your story called?”

“It’s called, Coco and the Wolves,” Laura answered with a smile.

Jon started to read. “Mom had a dog. The dog was named Coco.” Jon paused. “He should be named Krypto.”

Krypto lifted his head at the sound of his name and woofed softly.


🏆 EXCERPT #7:
Lois swallowed against a huge lump in her throat and blinked to keep the tears at bay. Her breathing turned shallow and she gripped the steering wheel tighter, intent on keeping her attention on the street.

But her heart thumped heavily in her chest and her throat tightened to the point where she thought she couldn’t breathe.

Consciously, she knew Clark was all right. But with the unbidden memories came that twisting in her gut telling her otherwise. The terror of having him almost die on her was still so fresh in her mind, just as painful as watching him collapse from Dillinger's bullet had been.

The voice of doubt kept whispering words of discouragement.

She told herself she was crazy. He was snoring right next to her. Yet, the need to check on her companion turned overwhelming.

Again her gaze darted toward him. Lois only dared to breathe as she saw his chest rise and fall.

He was still there, not just a figment of her imagination.

Lois swallowed, the lump in her throat a little less suffocating, but still noticeable.

Her heart kept racing. No matter how many steadying breaths she took it refused to calm until, finally, she reached out with a trembling hand. His fingers uncurled at her touch, allowing her to slip her hand into his.

Clark gave her hand a gentle squeeze, sending a rush of warmth through her. It settled her frayed nerves. The tension bled away, leaving a sense of comfort she'd only ever felt with him.



Good luck, everyone!
________________________________________________


Have a question? Ask it here! Or you can PM any of the K-Com members or reach out on Discord too! You can also send an email to us here: Kcom@kerthawards.com

In order to help you find all things Kerth for this year, we’ve created a TOC for all the 🏆TOC for Kerth Awards 2025 Posts🏆.

The Kerth Committee
(KSaraSara, Michael, lovetvfan, and Evie)

Thanks for playing round one of the Kerth Quizzes, everyone!

Here are the answers for the Waffy Stories:

• 1). I'll Be Home For Christmas - Her Story by Queen of the Capes
• 2.) A Conversation Long Overdue by bakasi
• 3.) There Will Never Be Another Tonight by Toomi8
• 4.) Big Changes Come in Small Packages by AmandaK
• 5.) IBM: Pont Neuf by JadedEvie
• 6.) Fade to Black: Honeymoon In My Mind by lovetvfan
• 7.) You're the only person I wanted to be with tonight by 90stvfangirl

Here are the recommendations that people made:

• Falling for a Farm Boy by Female Hawk
• I Will Always Love You by AmandaK
• 2023 Ficathon: Wishing You A... for JadedEvie by Queen of the Capes
• 2023 Ficathon: Christmas Lights for KSaraSara by JadedEvie

Here are the scores everyone got on this quiz:

• AmandaK: 7 points + 1 shiny gold star!
• 90sTVfangirl: 3.25 points (half point for an author and .75 for an author and series!) + 1 shiny gold star!
• UltraWoman: 6 points
• Bakasi: 4 points + 1 shiny gold star!
• Michael: 5 points + 1 platinum star (just because he asked for it; platinum stars are good for one round only)!
• BlindPassenger: 3.75 points (.75 for an author and series!)

AmandaK, our reigning champion, is defending her cape!

The next quiz, Quiz #2, the Best Challenge, will be posted shortly! Head over to get your answers in now!

And thanks again for playing!

Yikes.
I read this the other night and somehow completely missed the ending. So my first thoughts were—nice, a quick resolution to that terrible arc. Excellent!

Reread this morning and nooo!!! Please don’t give her amnesia!!!

Excerpt #1:
Didn't read this (yet) but I'm guessing due to the content and style:
Excerpt 2:
Hmm...really not sure. I either didn't rea it or do not remember that scene.
Excerpt 3:
Hmm, ok the title helps here.
Excerpt 4:
Ah...I don't think I read this one but I'll go with a wild gues and say
Excerpt 5:
OK I confess, I'm legit clueless. I definitely want to read that story, but I don't think I know what it is. Hmm, maybe one of the
Excerpt 6:
Urgh, I'm lcueless again. I really need to read more fic, it seems, or just am having bad luck with this particular quiz. Maybe its
IDK.
Excerpt 7:
Oof...I think I read this. But I can't remember where. I'll guess it might have been a story of
but not sure about that.

Oof, I totally failed that quiz. Lets hope I cut better the next time.

Bumping because new stories are coming.

Complete ficlet
Comments

Story
Series TOC

I am so excited to return to this series. It's so challenging for me because I am trying to make the stories fit both the challenge prompts and the series as a whole - but that makes it so much fun.

I know this is many FOLCS' least favorite arc from the show but I worked with what I got and I hopefully managed to rewrite the episode in an enjoyable way (and avoid some undesirable frogs). But, yes, I know I'm mean. I debated about the ending but in the end I decided to put it in. I plan to do a direct follow up to this one but I'm going to wait and see if one of the challenge prompts fits with it, so it might not be the next one I do.

Let me know what you think!

Happy Ficlet Friday!

Last year (2024) around this time, I began a little series in response to the Kerth challenges. It was always my intention to resurrect that series whenever more challenges were issued. Well, it’s Kerth time again and here I am ready to continue “Try Not to Change Anything.”

It is important to note that this series is being written out of chronological order. The first story (which shares its name with the series) must be read first. After that you can read in either the order they were posted or in chronological order as they are listed in the TOC. Just know that future stories may fall anywhere in the order chronologically. Each story mostly stands alone so long as you know the basic premise of the series. So please go back and read “Try Not to Change Anything” before reading this fic.

Kerth Challenge #1: Random Episode Fic

Ask the person nearest to you to give you a number between 1 and 4

Then ask them to give you a number between 1 and 22

The first number is the season your story will come from and the second is the episode from that season. Using that, write a story that either alters the episode, adds to it, changes it, or continues it.

I got 3x22 – Seconds. Ugh. Ugh, ugh, ugh. I asked my husband to provide the numbers. As soon as he said 3, I began dreading that he’d pick a number within this arc. I did NOT want to write this. And given the nature of this series, it doesn’t really fit. But I think I came up with an idea that works – something of a rewrite of the entire arc. Enjoy.

The More Things Change

Try not to change anything, Clark thought to himself sarcastically as he sped through the skies. He must’ve said those words a thousand times in the years following his and Lois’ strange soul jump into their own eleven and twelve-year-old bodies. And they’d tried their best to follow that rule – right up until it all just began to seem futile.

Three years ago, after several months of trying to pretend that he was only ‘friends’ with the woman who was technically his wife, he finally threw caution to the wind and decided that trying to stick closely to the previous timeline was only making them both unhappy. He’d kissed her in front of the news room and from there it was a whirlwind of reigniting their romance between all too familiar stories and stakeouts. They were officially married (again, technically) within the year.

And the world hadn’t exploded.

It was incredible really. Despite all of the changes they ended up making, nothing went drastically wrong. In fact, somehow, for some inexplicable reason, most things had played out very closely to the way they had before.

Including this.

“Why this?!” he muttered to himself angrily as he scanned the city, yet again, for his missing wife. “Of all the blasted things that had to stay the same, why couldn’t this one thing change?”

Of course, it wasn’t exactly the same. He hadn’t accidently married his wife’s clone, thank goodness. No. They were already married. And, so far as he knew, Lois hadn’t wound up singing in a bar under the name Wanda Detroit.

No, she’d just been kidnapped and replaced by a clone in a more standard way. Was there a standard way for something like this to happen?

Of course, he’d recognized the clone much faster this time and he’d felt like pulling his hair out when he realized it was happening again.

Naturally, this was all Luthor’s doing – although why he was so obsessed with Lois was a mystery. She’d never dated him in this timeline. They’d began investigating him right from the start. But he and Lois had been openly a couple before they became even peripherally under Luthor’s radar.

Nevertheless, the billionaire crime lord had set his sights on Lois fairly soon after their first official meeting and, after several dinner invitations failed, had begun finding other ways for them to meet so he could covertly work his charms – all of which Lois quite firmly rebuffed.

It didn’t even end after they got married or when they finally exposed Luthor – no, then he just began outright kidnapping her whenever he wasn’t in jail or in hiding. Their only guess as to the source of his obsession was the pheromone perfume that Miranda woman had threatened the city with. If Luthor had been sprayed by the 100% formula, its affects would be permanent and that would explain why he wouldn’t leave Lois alone.

It had been a crazy couple of years.

At least the previous Luthor encounters had been something new – something they weren’t repeating from the past. It kept things… interesting wasn’t really the right word. But no one could say their lives were boring.

Clark thought about heading back home, to the brownstone he and Lois had managed to buy a few years earlier than they had before. But the clone was still there and he didn’t really want to deal with her right now. He just wanted to find his wife.

He’d already checked the underground tunnel where he’d found them the last time they went through this. It was empty – yet another thing that wasn’t the same.

He strained his ears, listening for her call. He scanned the sewers and tunnels for any sign of Lois or Luthor or that Asabi fellow. So far, nothing.

“Come on, Lois. Where are you?” He asked aloud. He didn’t have a lead. He didn’t even know where to start. The only reason he’d been able to find her last time was that the clone followed Luthor and led him there.

The clone… she hadn’t known where Luthor was hiding in the previous timeline, but maybe this time…

With that thought, Clark made a quick U-turn and headed home.

***
MEANWHILE…

Bound and gagged in an underground bunker is pretty standard for Luthor, Lois thought to herself as she pulled against the ropes holding her hands behind the chair. Gotta say though – the two bodies in the eight-foot, glass cylinders has got to be a first.

She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d ended up there but she was fairly certain chloroform was involved, given the nausea she’d felt upon waking up. She’d seen Luthor flit in and out of the room a few times while she was still dazed so at least she knew who her captor was. He’d been gone for about a few hours now though.

She was growing weary of these games with Luthor. He’d escape prison, hide out for a while, kidnap her, and try to convince her to run away with him. Then Superman would rescue her and cart Luthor back off to prison. One would think that Luthor would learn to get out of Dodge the next time he escaped, but nope – he always came back for her. His obsession was getting really old.

She gave the ropes another tug and thought she felt them give just a little bit. Great. A few more hours of this and I’ll be home free, she thought sarcastically. She wondered if she ought to be working harder on the gag instead. If she could just call for Clark, they might be home in time for supper.

Before she could work out the best way to start shifting the gag, she heard footsteps approaching. A moment later, Luthor appeared carrying a large, strange looking gun and followed closely by Asabi.

“Ah, Lois, my dear. I see you’re feeling more awake,” Luthor said. Lois glared in reply. “Tsk, tsk. My sweet. I hate to see you like this – but we can’t have you calling for a certain someone in blue tights now, can we? Perhaps we can do something about that though – I would love to hear your melodious voice.”

Lois rolled her eyes. The only melodious sound her voice would be making if he removed her gag was exactly the sound he did not want to hear. He couldn’t really be that stupid, could he?

Luthor hefted the gun he was carrying, offering her a better look. “You see this? It is a quantum disrupter. I got it from… well it really doesn’t matter where I got it. Would you like to see what it can do?”

Lois turned her head away in feigned indifference but she kept her eyes on the weapon as Luthor pressed a button and then aimed at an old desk on the other side of the room. He fired and a beam of energy shot out. The desk seemed to waver for a moment and then it seemed to come apart at the molecular level, leaving nothing behind.

Lois felt her eyes widen. It was a terrifying weapon to be sure.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Luthor asked. Lois gave him her most incredulous look. “Of course that was only a desk. Imagine what this could do against an enemy. Well, it might even be enough to take down Superman. Shall we find out?”

His threat was clear. If she called for Clark now, Luthor would use that thing on him. Lois had no idea if it could actually hurt Clark or not but she really didn’t want to find out.

Luthor seemed to believe she got the message. He put the gun down and moved to her side, reaching for her gag. “Now, do you think you can behave, my love?” He loosened the material and then lowered it from her mouth.

Lois took a moment to stretch her jaw before replying. “I’m not your love, Luthor. I’m married.”

“For now, perhaps. But that will soon change.”

Lois shook her head. “What is your game this time?” She nodded towards the cylinders which Asabi was currently hovering next to. “What’s with Adam and Eve over there?”

“Ah, you shall soon see, my dear.”

Lois rolled her eyes. Let him keep his secrets. “Do you really think you’re going to get away with it this time? Clark is going to figure out where you’ve taken me. He always does. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Yes, yes. The infamous Mr. Kent. He is so very clever about following the clues – a regular Sherlock Holmes. But I’m afraid that Mr. Kent doesn’t even realize you are missing.” Luthor grinned as though he were in on some sort of twisted joke.

“Well, of course he realizes I’m gone,” Lois contradicted. “It’s not like you could’ve planted some sort of copy…” Something niggled at the back of her brain – a very old memory from before they’d jumped back into their youth. It was fuzzy but…

“No… Oh, no,” she groaned. “Clark told me about this, from that time I lost my memory. You had a clone made of me! You planted it to sabotage our wedding and then you were going to transfer our souls into other bodies or some such nonsense.” She didn’t bother to mentioned that she’d done her fair share of soul hopping.

Luthor looked a bit bewildered for a moment but he shook his head. “While I’m not certain how you came by your information – you are mostly correct. I did plant a clone to act in your place, although I don’t know what that has to do with weddings. By the time dear Mr. Kent realizes, you and I will be long gone – off to start new lives in our new bodies thanks to science and a little help from Mr. Asabi.”

“You’re delusional if you think I will willingly go with you anywhere, Luthor.”

“We shall see. Perhaps after a month or so in seclusion, you will see things differently.” Luthor ran a finger down her cheek. “I look forward to breaking that indomitable spirit.”

Lois shivered in disgust. “The jokes on you. Clark’s already seen through your little decoy. He’s probably on his way here right now.”

Lois had excellent timing. Just after the words left her mouth, several things happened in quick succession. Superman burst into the room, possibly breaking a door or wall in the process. Luthor reached for the disrupter. Lois called out, “Superman, look out for the – ” but she didn’t bother finishing because the hero had already focused his heat vision on the weapon, causing Luthor to drop it before he could aim.

For a moment, everything was still. Luthor gaped. Lois smirked. Superman crossed his arms over his chest and raised one eyebrow. Then Luthor tried to make a break for it – which was foolish. Superman swiftly bound him and Asabi together and then crossed the room to free Lois from her bounds.

“You remembered about the disrupter?” Lois asked, massaging her wrists to work the blood back into her hands.

“Of course.”

“Did he really replace me with a clone again?”

Superman winced. “Don’t remind me. This is one part of our past lives I would much rather have not lived over again.”

“At least it’s not exactly the same. I haven’t lost my memory this time.”

“I’ll count my blessings.” Superman nodded toward the hole he’d made in the wall. “There’s a ladder to a manhole down that tunnel. Why don’t you head on up and call Henderson? I’ll wait here with these two and all this… evidence.”

Lois nodded and headed out the way he’d come in. She found the ladder easily enough – the manhole cover had already been moved out of the way, letting in light from the street up above. She began to climb. The rungs were gritty with rust but she paid no mind. As soon as this was over, she was going to take a long, hot bubble bath.

As she neared the top, she reached for the edge of manhole to heft herself up. Suddenly, the rung she was standing on gave way. She lost her grip on the edge of the hole and felt herself begin to fall. Her breath caught in her throat and she didn’t even have time to scream before she struck her head on the concrete below.

Clark, hearing the fall, was at his wife’s side in an instant. He checked her pulse and x-rayed her for neck injuries. Then he cradled her head in his lap and felt the blood from her head wound run between his fingers. As he scooped her up to take her directly to the hospital, he closed his eyes and whispered a quick prayer.

“Please. Please don’t let this happen again.”

Hi Evie!

Here's my tribute

Excerpts:
1. This sounds like a next gen fic. “Claire” must be a great hint, if I read the story and find her in my “Characters” category. Wait, I mean, “Claire” was always the genderswapped Clark and that Bruce/Claire dialogue, yeah, that’s Claire getting Louis a coffee mug. /reads on/ no, daughter. Gah! I don’t know, I have no notes on it. I could go hunting in AO3, of course.

Hmm… /hits forum search/

2. Eeep, this looks like an nfic. Very nicely written. Maybe it’s…

3. Kissing! Meeting of mind. Perhaps later on also meeting of bodies. Alas…

4. Pre-relationship. I might even have read this one.

5. Millionaires and superheroes? /continues reading/ Parisian bridge. Yes, I read this! Umm…

6. Oh my. A bed. Kissing on a bed. The way they kissed during HiM… Frustrated Lois is fun. And I think I have read this one.

7. Okay, after Lucky Leon. Probably their date. There was a story about their first date. Or rather, their second date? Hmm… let’s see…

Thank you for all the work in finding WAFFy scenes!

Recommendations
I Will Always Love You by AmandaK
2023 Ficathon: Wishing You A... for JadedEvie by Queen of the Capes
2023 Ficathon: Christmas Lights for KSaraSara by JadedEvie
I got probably 10 more atleast but I want to post some stuff in other categories, too

Michael

Chapter 11
Isolated House

Lois paced back and forth in her prison, her mind racing. She now knew Mindy’s intentions for her husband. She was nothing more than bait, a mere pawn in this sinister plan. But of course, Lois had already decided she wouldn’t make things easy for Intergang’s leader.

She didn’t yet know exactly how she could play her role, but one thing was certain: she would do everything possible to escape before Clark was forced to come and rescue her. The thought of him being exposed to kryptonite gas again terrified her. The last time, he had only survived because Lord Nor’s body had absorbed the gas instead of him. This time, there would be no Kryptonian to save his life.

Her eyes rested on the air vents. She was almost certain that’s how the gas would be dispersed. She needed to find a way to block those vents before Mindy executed her plan.

Without arousing suspicion, Lois began to discreetly examine the room, searching for anything she could use to block the air ducts. She forced herself to show no signs of nervousness, knowing full well she was under surveillance.

She had to act the part, behave normally, all while preparing her escape. The growing pain in her bladder became unbearable, and Lois realized there were no toilets in her room. She had no choice but to ask for help, though every fiber of her being hated the idea of depending on her captors.

She hesitated for a moment, then decided this might be their mistake. If the toilets were outside her prison, it would give her a chance to scout for other escape routes. Perhaps even a clue about where she was being held.

Walking to the visible camera in the corner of the room, she declared firmly but calmly:
"I need to use the bathroom. Unless, of course, you plan to turn this cell into a pigsty?"

She knew they were watching her, and if this was her only opportunity to explore other parts of the building, she had to take it. Her thoughts raced as she considered every possible scenario.

A man entered without a word and gestured for Lois to follow. She immediately noticed that he hadn’t bound her hands, giving her a sliver of hope. As she walked down the hallway, she carefully observed every detail: the doors they passed, the locations of the cameras, potential blind spots, and the overall layout of the space. All of it could be useful for her eventual escape.

When they reached the bathroom, she entered alone, relieved to see there were no cameras inside. Finally, a moment of reprieve, away from the prying eyes of her captors. The room was simple: a toilet, a shower, and the bare essentials of a bathroom. But what caught her attention was the small window high on the wall. It led outside.

Lois approached it, her heart beating slightly faster. Of course, the window had no handle, but it was a step in the right direction. If there was a window, there might be a way out. She clenched her jaw, determined not to let this opportunity slip away.

The man accompanying her banged on the door, and Lois exited, now equipped with a plan for her escape.

Above Metropolis

Clark flew tirelessly over the northern part of Metropolis, scanning every road, every property, every forest, every grove. The sun was just beginning to rise, and exhaustion was starting to set in. Even though he didn’t need much sleep, his worry for Lois was wearing him down. He hadn’t found a single lead.

As he turned back toward the city to rest, something caught his attention: a car matching the description in the photo Jimmy had shown him. Clark dove toward it, using his super-vision to confirm the license plate.

Isolated House

Lois lay on the bed in her makeshift prison. All night, she had been strategizing how to use her next bathroom trip to her advantage. Determined, she decided to ask for a shower to mask the sound of her escape with running water. She had found a nail file among the makeup items left on the vanity.

Her plan was to unscrew the bathroom window and escape through it. Once outside, she would hide and then call for Superman. It was a simple plan, but she was convinced it could work.

Above the House

Clark hovered in the air, observing the isolated house with intense focus. He had verified the license plate of the vehicle parked outside and confirmed it was the one he was searching for. But when he tried to scan the house with his X-ray vision, he hit a barrier: the walls were lined with lead. This detail left no doubt—he had found where Lois was being held.

Logic told him to be cautious: he should wait for police backup and create a plan to avoid falling into a trap. But his heart couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Lois in her captors’ hands a moment longer. The sense of urgency overwhelmed him.

With fierce determination, Clark crashed through the front door. It splintered into shards of wood and metal, powerless against his strength.

Inside the House

The alarm blared instantly, its deafening noise alerting the guards. In a surveillance room, Mindy Church calmly watched Superman’s arrival on multiple monitors. A satisfied smile spread across her face.

“Perfect... Just as I planned,” she murmured triumphantly.

She pressed a button, releasing gas into the room where Lois was being held captive.

Meanwhile, Clark swiftly incapacitated the two armed men who rushed toward him. His movements were quick and precise, the men restrained before they even realized what was happening. But something immediately caught his attention: a muffled sound coming from one of the rooms, the sound of someone struggling to breathe.

In Lois's Room

Lois lay on the bed, gasping as the gas filled the room. The air grew increasingly thin. Her vision blurred, and she felt unconsciousness creeping in.

Mindy, still watching from her monitors, pressed another button, opening the door to Lois’s room.

Clark, now alert to his wife’s distress, rushed into the room without hesitation. He found her lying on the bed, motionless. His heart clenched. He knelt beside her, gently cradling her face in his hands, and desperately began to breathe air into her mouth.

Mindy, observing the scene with sadistic delight, wasn’t finished. She pressed another button, releasing a distinctive green gas into the room: kryptonite in gaseous form.

Clark had no time to react. The moment the gas reached him, an unbearable pain consumed him. He collapsed onto Lois’s body, overwhelmed by the kryptonite that sapped his strength.

Lois, still disoriented, felt the urgency rise within her as she realized the kryptonite gas had ceased, giving Clark a momentary reprieve. The fresh air filtering into the room gave her a slight surge of strength. She immediately bent over her husband, her trembling fingers searching for a pulse. To her immense relief, she found it—weak but steady. Clark was alive but gravely weakened.

Lois knew they didn’t have much time. If she stayed passive, Mindy and her henchmen would surely return to finish the job. Every second counted. With tremendous effort, she managed to move Clark enough to free herself from beneath him. Her body screamed in protest, but adrenaline fueled her determination.

Kneeling by Clark’s side, she whispered softly, hoping for a response:
“Clark… I’m getting us out of here. Please, hold on...”

Her heart raced as she searched the room for any means of escape. She couldn’t give up—not now.

Evie Jade

Many things are taking place in this part. What I wanted was for the readers to see that Lady Polara Lo can most definitely handle a sword! She carries many scars from that battle, both external and internal. Thanks betaing and commenting it is much appreciated.

1. 2.3. 4. 5. 6.7.

This is my entry for the FDK Scavenger Hunt: January 2025. I didn't find a FDK thread, so I'm starting a new one.

Full story: Anybody's Baby

Lois and Clark on the verge of starting a relationship. My favorite phase.

Awww...

Lucy spells trouble.

"Lois, this is my baby. Take care of him. Bye."

Clark to the rescue.

The adition of a baby in the early stage of their relationship was an unexpected twist, but it was a blessing in disguise for Lois and Clark. It was a sweet and beautiful story.

Andreia

Mmhh, for some reason I never feel like torturing Lois that way. I'd thought about letting him help Lois take care of a sick Lucy. But the kids have grown too old already.

Thanks for the update, Barbara!

Did Clark ever get to take care of a sick Lois?

Hope your kids get better, soon, too! Rabid readers will be here when you get back to it!

Michael

I do feel better.

Thank you all for your good wishes and your feedback. Now the kids are down sick. The muse will rest in suspended animation until they are better, too. Lack of sleep and worrying too much isn't good for inspiration.