Deep seated panic warred with body-trembling relief as he slowly turned to face his partner. Frantically he scoured his brain for something, anything, that would make for a good excuse. “Um, gee, faulty craftsmanship and fear-induced adrenaline. Can’t beat that, huh?”
Oh, yeah, that's a dynamite excuse. You sure have her fooled, Clark.
At a time like this, I agree with Ann: There's
no point in trying to keep the secret now. Not even Lois Lane is that galactically stupid.
No, she's brilliant. And with a "predatorialy pleased gait," yet. I wish I could have seen that for real instead of just in my mind's eye.
And the last line:
"I told you I know how Superman kisses."
Killer line, Catharine. It says so very much in so few words. You're absolutely the mistress of brevity and soul. And now you've written yet another winner! Thank you.
