So I found this sitting around my hard-drive today. I think I wrote it this year. I tend to write and then forget about things. My BR has been tackled by some RL, so it's not proof-read, but all in all, it doesn't look completely atrocious to me. AND it's like 6 pages, folks! Haha. This is big stuff for me. Anywho, peace out folks. My craziness here will keep my presence lingering for a few days while I'm out of town.
Notes: So completely unrelated to fanfic, the night I started writing this fic, I commented to my friend that the squirrel operating my brain is severely misguided. Well, I think that fits this fic perfectly. I saw a commercial for Scary Movie 3 and naturally thought, Hey! I can poke some fun at TOGOM! So be forewarned. If you want a rewrite with some angst, this is not the fic for you. It’s just 2am fluff with a kick. I did use some lines from the script itself. Nothing sinister intended there. Or at least blame it on the squirrel.
That Old Spoof Of Mine
The alarm clock went off, awaking Lois from her nap. It had been a long day for her. Groggily she hit the snooze button, but as she slowly regained her senses, the excitement started to build up until it boiled over, and she practically jumped out of bed hitting the ‘off’ button on her clock. It was time for a stakeout. If things went well, this was going to be the biggest coup for her since the invention of prepackaged food. How many times does one get to spy on gangsters in an illegal club? Well, okay, a lot of times, Lois amended herself as she rummaged through her closet. But still…Bonnie & Clyde! Al Capone! John Dillinger! Some of the most timeless criminals in history were back, and she was about to see them up close and personal. Well hopefully, not that close.
Lois was getting frustrated. As much as her eyes were rebelling against light, since she just got up, she couldn’t see a darn thing in this closet. Everything was too dark. She stalked over to the light switch…and nearly lost her eyebrows at her hairline. What in the…everything was black and…white? She blinked a couple of times, and then rubbed her eyes. Clearly, she was still groggy from sleep. But sure enough, when she reopened her eyes, the room was colorless.
“Hello?” Lois tested her voice out. She took a good look down at herself and moved her arms around. Okay, she was intact, at least. But there was nothing to explain why her room looked like a Dick Van Dyke re-run, minus some furniture to trip over.
It just didn’t make any sense! There was nothing unusual about the day. She went to work. She checked her email. She interviewed a few people. She got kidnapped. Superman rescued her. It was just like any other day. Then she came home, heated up a frozen dinner, ate it, and took a nap for tonight.
Wait! The window! Lois dashed over the wall and pushed up the window frame. Nope, the rest of the outside world was in black and white, as well. Great. Lois slammed down the frame to cut the slight draft and plunked herself down on the bed, thinking. She looked over at the clock, daring it to flip over from 10:59. 11pm. Well, she obviously wasn’t dreaming, she didn’t think. And if this indeed wasn’t a dream, she had exactly an hour to get ready and pick up Clark so they could head over to Georgie Hairdo’s tonight for all the prime action.
Frustrated, she charged into the bathroom to brush her teeth and jump in the shower. Even the water was shades of grey, as she turned on the faucet.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Clark Kent put away the last clean dish from dinner. As he wiped the last of the water free from his hands, he couldn’t help but feel something lumpy in the back of his pant’s pocket. He set down the dishtowel and reached behind into his pants, finding a comb. He glanced curiously at it. He wasn’t sure how it got there, but he was definitely feeling a little 007 tonight. In one suave move, he combed back his hair and stuffed the comb back in his pocket. Then he took off his glasses confused. He wasn’t really sure exactly why he was wearing them. Looking around, he realized he sight was perfect, if not better than perfect. He tossed the frames casually on the kitchen counter. Glancing at the clock, he realized he’d have to get a move on. Lois was due to stop by soon. They were heading over to Georgie Hairdo’s tonight for a little stake-out. Granted, it was work, but he didn’t see why they couldn’t take in a martini or two, maybe a round of cards with the gang. Wait, what gang? Oh well, he could find a gang. After all, he was Kent. Clark Kent.
~*~*~*~*~*
Lois parked her car outside 344 Clinton and got out. At least her jeep was silver. That wasn’t too far off the mark. But she couldn’t even enjoy the red dress she was wearing! Annoyed, she walked up to Clark’s apartment and knocked on the door. Not bothering to wait for him to answer, she let herself in. Even his apartment was colorless.
“Clark?” She called out. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah,” came the reply from the bedroom. “I’m coming!”
“Does anything look different around here to you?” She asked, dying to get the question out already.
“Not really,” He replied stepping into view.
“Well, dammit,” Lois cursed out. “Why is it that—? Uh Clark.” Lois’ babble slowed to an absolute halt. “When did you pick up that suit?” She asked incredulously. “And did you take up smoking since what, four hours ago?!”
Clark Kent leaned against his bedroom door frame in a pin-striped suit, cigar hanging out of his mouth. “Come on, dahling,” He drawled out. “We don’t want to be late.” He flipped on a pair of sunglasses and ran a hair through his slicked back hair.
“Darling?” Lois exclaimed. “Excuse me?!”
Clark brushed past her and pulled open the door. He walked outside and whistled for a taxi. One immediately pulled up to the curb, and Clark opened the backseat door.
“Come on, Lois. Capone and his gang aren’t going to be waiting around for us!”
Utterly confused, Lois exited Clark’s apartment and shut the door behind her. In front of her on the street was a cab that looked like it drove straight out of the 1950’s. It was going to be a long night.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The cab pulled over about a block from Georgie Hairdo’s, and Lois threw the door open, desperate to get out. She threw the cab driver a twenty and waited impatiently for Clark to hurry up. So she could kill him. Clark stepped out of the cab and shut the door as it sped off. He draped an arm casually around her shoulders as they walked down the street, and she shrugged it off. If looks could kill, he would be cremated.
“Okay, buster, what gives?” Lois demanded.
“Whatever do you mean, dahling?” Clark asked bewildered.
“Right. It’s a great cover for inside the club. Note how I said ‘inside the club’!” Lois’ voice raised on each word. “How can you even see without your glasses on?”
“Now, now, Moneynickle,” Clark began smoothly. “Let’s not get riled up.”
“I can’t believe I’m even about to go along with this,” Lois cut in. “But isn’t it supposed to be Money*penny*?”
“Oh, no, dahling. Moneypenny is so…James Bond,” Clark replied with a casual whiff of his hand. Lois rolled her eyes. “Now then, I was thinking. How about I get us a couple of drinks when we get there? We can stroll around, peruse the locals, maybe take in a bet or two…”
“Uh huh,” Lois said flatly. “That better be a big drink. Look, we are *working* tonight. Do *not* forget that. And if you don’t drop this…this 007 act at the end of the night, I *will* hurt you. In places you didn’t even know you had.”
Clark blinked. “Um, everything’s going to work out,” he squeaked. He recovered most of his suave self as they began to cross the street towards Georgie Hairdo’s.
“Pretty classy crowd for an illegal gambling club,” Lois noted, as several couples stepped out of limousines.
“You think they’ll let us in?” Clark asked worriedly as they watched the others enter.
Lois rolled her eyes. “You’re kidding. Mr. Suave is knuckling under the pressure now? Come on!” She linked her arm through his and practically dragged him to the door. She knocked, and a peep hole door slid open.
“Yeah, what do you want?” The bouncer spat out.
Maybe this wasn’t going to go as smoothly as she thought. “Um…we have a reservation…?”
“Nice try. We don’t take reservations.”
“Oh right. Uh, Joe sent me.”
“Nope.”
“The eagle has landed.”
“Try again.” The bouncer was getting restless.
“Swordfish!”
Clark raised his eyebrows. “Swordfish?”
“Oh, shut up,” Lois snapped. “I saw it in a movie.”
“Yeah, I saw that Marx brothers’ movie, too, lady,” The bouncer cut-in sharply.
“Oh, she’s such a kidder, aren’t you, Moneynickle?” Clark drawled out with a suave grin. He puffed on his cigar, which never seemed to go away, no matter how many times he put it out. “The fat lady sings.” The bouncer shrugged and opened the door. Lois shot a look at him. “Come on, baby,” Clark replied. “I’m Kent. Clark Kent.”
“Right…” Lois trailed off. He better start saying his prayers once the stakeout was over. She shook her head for the umpteenth time tonight. “Let’s just get on with this, shall we?”
~*~*~*~*~*~
An hour later, Lois sat at a slot machine, bored, as she dropped in another nickel. These machines had to be rigged. Another round came up empty, and she sighed, taking a look around for her partner. She finally spotted him at the bar, drinking a martini. He didn’t even drink martinis. This was getting weirder by the minute. Wait. Edit that, she told herself as a dead ringer for Bonnie Parker walked up to Clark. This was getting *very* weirder by the minute. She grabbed her almost empty bucket of nickels and moved a row over so she could listen in on the conversation. She ducked as much as she could behind the machine, trying not to be obvious.
“White wine for the lady,” Clark was saying to the bartender. “And I’ll have another vodka martini. Up, with a twist of lemon.”
“Ooh, a martini drinker,” Bonnie cooed. “So very…suave.” Lois rolled her eyes.
“So, do you come here often?” Clark asked smoothly.
“Oh, I haven’t been *anywhere* in forevah,” Bonnie replied dramatically. After all, dead gangsters are only at their best when they’re dramatic. And in black and white. She’d have to thank whoever performed that little miracle. “You should loosen up yah tie, dahling, and relax.” She gave it a tug, and Clark smiled. Oh wait, he thought frantically. He may be a take-off of James Bond, but Bonnie Parker wasn’t supposed to find out about his alter-ego.
“Why don’t we just leave that as is,” Clark said with a charming smile. “I’m a little shy about that.” He pushed his tie back into place. She placed her hand on top of his.
“Hey, hey, back it off, pretty boy!” Clyde Barrow called angrily. He rushed over to where Bonnie and Clark were, nearly knocking Lois out of the way.
“Give it a rest, Clyde,” Bonnie replied annoyed. “I don’t see a ring on this finger!”
“We’ll discuss this later,” Clyde finished firmly. “You’re supposed to be watching the door!”
Clark quietly slipped away from the growing argument and started searching for Lois. He spotted her as she hid behind several slot machines, glued to the heated conversation Bonnie and Clyde were engrossed in. He stepped up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. Lois gasped and threw her hands in the air sending her nickels flying. She turned around angrily, ready to throw a punch.
“Geez!” She exclaimed when she saw it was just her partner. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Sorry. I thought I should let you know Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow are here. But obviously you’ve picked up on that,” he noted dryly. He puffed on his cigar. “I’ll hold ‘em off while you call the police, Moneynickel.”
“Right, Clark,” Lois said incredulously. “You’re going to take on a couple of professional gangsters. Do you want an open casket or an urn?”
“Oh, but dahling, you forget. I’m—”
“Kent, Clark Kent,” Lois finished hurriedly. “Whatever. I’m going to go call the police. Stay. Put. That’s an order.”
She started for the door when it slammed open, and a burst of gunfire filled the room. Capone and the rest of his gang were here. Clark puffed on his cigar. This could get interesting. The gamblers began screaming and scrambling. The bouncers reached for their guns, but they were immediately confiscated by Bonnie and Clyde. Clark felt around in his pin-stripe for a weapon and discovered none. What good was making fun of James Bond if he didn’t have the goods to go with the outfit? He’d have a word with the writers later.
“Ladies and gentleman, this club now belongs to Al Capone,” Capone announced.
Dillinger spotted Lois and walked over to her. “Hey Al, how about we make this little lady our new hostess? You know, I was always partial to a lady in grey.” He started to run a hand down her cheek when Clark stepped in.
“I think that’s enough,” Clark said firmly.
“Yeah, and who are you? The bodyguard?” Dillinger snapped out.
“Worse. I’m Kent. Clark Kent.” He puffed on his cigar.
Dillinger gave a bark of laughter as he pulled out his gun. He fired three times at Clark, who looked down surprised at the bullet holes in his jacket. Everyone stared at him silent and shocked.
Lois regrouped and whisper-shouted, “Clark! Fall down!”
“Huh?” Clark asked confused.
“No one finds out about Superman in this episode, and I sure as hell am not supposed to know!”
“Oh!” And with that, Clark promptly collapsed. The crowd recovered and started screaming. The police sirens could be heard wailing not far from Hair-do’s club.
“You moron!” Capone berated Dillinger. “What did you do that for? God, come on, we have to get out of here. And take the stiff. I’m not about to be linked to a murder!”
Dillinger grabbed Clark by the feet, and Lois collapsed. “Oh, Clark!” She feigned in horror. “Clark!” Dillinger dragged Clark out the door and slammed it shut. “Clark! Clark!” Her voice faded away as she heard a beeping. It was incessant…It was loud...It was her alarm clock.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Lois shot out of bed panting and looked at her clock. Eleven pm. Whew. Wait a minute. She glanced at her arms and took a good look around the room. Color. It was just a dream. Thank God! She raced into the bathroom to start getting ready.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Ding Dong!
Clark jogged up to the door.
“Hey Clark!” Lois said as she let herself in, nearly slamming the door open into him. “Let’s get a move on! Whatever’s going down at that club isn’t going to be sitting around waiting for us!”
“Right, Lois,” he replied with a smile.
“Boy, I had the weirdest dream tonight!” She exclaimed as she linked her arm through his and pulled him towards the door. ”Everything was in black and white, and you were some kind of *crazy* James Bond…something about Superman, too…oh, and you got killed! You, the cautious one in this partnership! I think…It’s all kind of foggy now.”
Clark laughed. “Oh, I think I’ll be around for a while, Lois…” He shut his apartment door behind him as they walked down the sidewalk to her jeep. “Yep, I’ll be around for a long time…”
The End
