A random thought to start with: I it just my imagination, or do Clark Kent novels NOT have the traditional author's picture somewhere on cover? Otherwise, they would a) cause undercover troubles and b) Lois, sitting there, looking at a Clark Kent picture just before Superman shows up
On with FDK...
“Clark Kent,” she repeated casually, for all the world as if she had not just discovered his biggest secret, “You know, the writer ?”
/wipes brow/
“Hmm…I’ll have to think about that one. For now, why don’t you just open your window, or go up to the roof if you’re at work, and call for me? If I’m anywhere in Metropolis, I’ll hear you.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m boring you. I’m afraid I’m a bit of a trivia nut.”
Aww, that's okay, Happy. It was pretty interesting
“Yet you didn’t let it get to you. That’s unusual for a novice.”
“I never said I was a novice.”
Imagine a cartoon character here, holding a big, flashing neon sigh, reading Clark Kent, right over his head.
“Good point.” Lois took a bite of green beans with red peppers while she thought it over. “I guess there’s no reason I can’t start off getting to know the superpowered side of you just as easily as the other side. As long as we’re agreed that it’s just for now. And you can’t expect me not to be curious. I can’t just turn that off.”
*g* And the writer side might be pretty interesting, too. Especially, since she's starting to become a Clark Kent buff
“You’ve never been to Mardi Gras, have you?” Lois asked in an obvious attempt to break the tension and lighten the mood.
“As a matter of fact, I have,” he laughed. “Point taken.”
“I’m nothing but trouble in that department,” she parried half-heartedly.
“Forewarned is forearmed; I’ll take my chances,” he insisted, his mouth stretching into a wide smile.
Awww and
“Hmmm….,” she contemplated. “I think we should name you after Clark Kent. He is the master of the secret identity, you know.”
“You’re going to call me Clark?” he squeaked.
Interesting. Wonder how long it's going to take for Lois to think of them in the same thought.
What about Jerome? Or John Clark?
Lois gave a little chuckle, then went back to her pondering. “How about Charlie King?” she asked.
Right.
“How do you feel about Caleb?” she asked at length.
Caleb? Interesting choice. I think that's the time (and the third fiction) I heard it used.
After that, there was no need for names, or other words for that matter, for a very long time.
Sounds innocent enough. Just some tonsil hockey. Nothing to see. Move along.
Michael
