I wrote this as a wierd, and pretty quickly written short. The chronology is kind of off, but It's just for fun so I'm not going to fix it before posting it. Please just enjoy it.
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Trask held the glowing green crystal of kryptonite out. Clark was prostrate on the floor, wracked by pain that he hadn’t felt in years, almost passing out. Lois lay dazed on the floor, still shaken by the taser.
Suddenly the door into the barn banged open. Two men, in black suits with dark sunglasses and earpieces showing, stepped to either side of the door and looked around. They had hard faces, the kind that would go with hard eyes, if you’d been able to see their eyes. The man to the left of the door spoke into his left cuff, “secure, come on in, he’s here”.
A few seconds later a short man with big ears in a grey suit stepped in surround by more men with hard faces in black suits. It was obviously recognizable as the President of the United States. Trask’s mouth opened in a grin, what better way to savor his victor than before his command in chief. “Sir! I have the alien invaded incapacitated! Sir!” he announced proudly.
The president looked at Clark for a few seconds. He looked at Trask for a few seconds. “Arrest him,” he ordered the secret service men.
Trask’s grin widened, what could be better than making an arrest at the direct command of the chief of the executive branch of the government? He might get a medal for this!
His grin turned to a frown as three of the men in black stepped up to him. Two grabbed an arm each, the third stuck a gun in his back. Then a fourth one came to front and started to frisk him from the front. “But I’ve got the alien right where we want him!”
“Hang in there, Boyscout,” one of the remaining men called to Clark. Clark managed to nod.
“But you need to arrest him, not me,” protested Trask.
“You’re the one who’s committed a federal felony,” growled one man in black.
“But he’s an illegal alien!”
“What? Don’t be silly. He naturalized under the Reagan administration! And before that he had refugee status since the Ford administration.”
The president interrupted. “Where is that doctor? Boyscout looks like he’s going to throw up or pass out!”
“He’s coming,” said a calm voice from the man to the right of the door. Just then Dr. Klein bustled in wearing a rumpled lab coat and an askew helmet.
He looked around, and immediately focused on the glowing stone. “What’s that?” he demanded.
“An alien stone,” gasped Clark, sitting up, “It contains element 142 and emits some strange radiation,” then he slumped down again, spent.
Klein spent about half a second thinking about it. “The radiation must somehow unbind the way your body traps high energy photons. Hmmm, that would both mess up your energy metabolism and probably release toxic photons, much the way free radicals form in humans...get some lead around that things and get it out of here!” he finished in a yell.
One of the men in black grabbed the stone and ran out the door. Clark started to breath a little better immediately. Klein went over and took his pulse and looked at his eyes. “How do you feel?”
“Weak and miserable.”
“You probably need some replacement sunlight. Let’s get you out of here.”
Two of the secret service men stepped over to help but the president waved one of them out of the way and offered his own shoulder for Clark to lean on. Clark seemed surprised and a little uncertain.
“Come on, Boyscout, after all the times you’ve saved my life, the least I can do is help you once in exchange. It’s not like a get many opportunities.” Clark leaned on him and they headed for the door.
Lois managed to speak, “Saved your life?”
“Sure, lots of time. He tends to look after security when I’m over seas. What? You think grenades just happen to not go off around me?”
“He’s saved the president’s life so many times since the Nixon administration that the secret service thinks of him as one of their own. They even gave him a code name: Boy-scout. Cause he’s always prepared. ...just maybe not this time?’
“I did call,” said Clark, defensively.
“You did at that!” whooped the president. “You always do.”
One of the men helped Lois to her feet and out the door after Clark and the President. “You think of him as one of your own?” she asked
“You mean he isn’t?” asked the confused young man helping her.
The president answered, “He is in every way but one: he refuses a salary, never figured out why, he certainly earns it. Haven’t had an assassination since Kennedy because of him.”
“Came close with Reagan,” commented Lois.
“Inside Washignton D.C. Boyscout usually isn’t on duty there, we normally figure we can handle that. And he still helped out getting every to the hospital in time. Boyscout makes a great EMT. Even brings his own X-ray machine.”
Lois looked at the various men around her. “This is incredible!”
“I don’t have to tell you this is all off the record,” the president commented.
Lois looked either confused or dubious, depending on polite you are.
“No one will believe this if you publish, so we can tell you. Just as they won’t believe Trask if he talks, at the insane asylum we’ll probably have to send him too. So, you got questions?”
“O.K. How’d Superman get naturalized?”
“It wasn’t easy. Since he didn’t have a birth certificate or any documentation it would take an explicit bill by congress. Which Reagan got. He called up the Congress and explained he was all set to give ‘the highest medal he could bestow on an American citizen’ and the only thing holding it up was that the poor boy wasn’t a citizen. He was a brave man, he did his duty, stood for truth, justice and the American way, came here a refugee with nothing but a diaper and a blanket. Got educated, worked hard, obeyed the law. He deserved a medal! He deserved two of them. ...Reagan liked giving medals.”
“So the congress added an amendment to a highway bill, and few pork items. The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court administered the oath...he didn’t realize how historic swearing in ‘this’ alien was...but then I don’t think Reagan understood that, or maybe he just didn’t want to admit it to congress.
“Anyways, Hey, Presto, citizen. Simple, really.”
“And he works for the secret service?” pressed Lois.
“Sometimes. More like with them. He usually just checks out security in advance and handles special problems. Hey, Boyscout? You want another medal?”
“No thank you, Mr. President.” Clark glanced at Lois. “I might want a waiver on the waiting period for a marriage license some time,” he said with a smile.
“I can’t exactly do that, but I can have you in Maryland by chopper in 3 hours and they don’t have a waiting period. If you aren’t going to be flying yourself for a while.”
Lois looked at Clark and considered. “I accept.” She said grinning. She turned to the president, “get that chopper.”
