Before you get started, WARNING! I'm not entirely sure if 'Galactically Stupid' is the name of the story or a description of me for writing it. I will tell you this: I've been working hard the past couple of months. And I tend to get a little punch-drunk when I'm tired. So... READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
This is a fanfic based on the television show, Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. No copyright infringement is intended. I’m borrowing these characters for a little fun and not for any profit. For a complete disclaimer, go to:
http://www.thompsonlawoffice.ca/Disclaimer.htm. Thanks to Carol and Gerry for their corrections. Their help, as always, is greatly appreciated.
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Galactically Stupid
By: ML Thompson <thomplaw@tbaytel.net>
March 2006
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Lois pounded impatiently on the door. She’d told him she’d pick him up at nine. So why was he taking so long to answer? This was why she hated working with partners - they never took the job as seriously as she did. She raised her hand again when the door suddenly opened and...
Lois’ mouth went slack when she saw... Muscles and sinew, knitted together in perfect unity. Or... well, she was getting ahead of herself. It was obvious that she’d interrupted his shower. His hair, although combed neatly back, was still wet. A single strand, stubbornly refusing its place with the rest of his hair, dropped onto his forehead leaving Lois with the sudden, and quite unexpected, impulse to push it back in place.
She fought the impulse off. And had it only been his hair, she might have been successful in ignoring the gorgeous specimen standing in front of her. But her eyes didn’t stay on that lock of hair. Pretty much ignoring his face, her eyes sought to know the body. Arms that she’d have a problem getting both hands around. A broad chest with hard pecks which tapered into a narrow waist. Everywhere she looked, she was confronted by bulging muscles and nowhere could she spot an ounce of extra fat.
His body was still glimmering as small droplets of water clung to it. One suddenly took that moment to escape, running down his stomach to disappear in the simple white towel that was wrapped around his waist. Her tongue was suddenly begging to be allowed to dart out and catch that particular droplet.
Yet this entire exploration took only a matter of seconds before she managed to forcibly remind herself to look away, to meet his eyes. She was there for work. The Messenger. The shuttle. The space program. Story. Plot against. Right.
She cleared her throat, hoping that her voice would work in spite of the sudden lack of moisture in her mouth. “It’s nine o’clock. I thought you’d be... Superman!” she exclaimed.
Those hard pecks. That rock solid body. Those bedroom eyes. Even that stubborn lock of hair. She instantly knew who he was.
“Superman?” Clark asked in confusion, even as he took a slight step back. “Lois, I...”
“Don’t even try to deny it, Clark! Did you honestly think I wouldn’t figure it out? What do you think I am? Galactically stupid?”
“But... Lois... I haven’t invented Superman yet. That doesn’t happen until later in this episode. Remember? You discover a bomb on the shuttle. Superman comes. Eats the bomb. Ringing any bells here?”
Lois let out a breath. “Okay, so maybe I jumped the gun a little, Clark. But I’m just so sick of all these stories that portray me as galactically stupid. After all, a pair of glasses. A flashy costume. A little bit of hair gel. Just how stupid do people think I am? And really, when you think about it, I make these amazing leaps of logic in order to get to the bottom of a story. So what’s wrong with my figuring out the Clark/Superman connection before you invent Superman?” She glared at Clark, daring him to contradict her.
After a moment, he let out a breath. “You’re right, Lois. There should be at least one story out there that shows how truly brilliant you are.” Then his eyebrows crinkled. “There is one problem, though.”
“What’s that?”
“The love story.”
“What do you mean? There’s nothing that says I can’t fall in love with you even though I figure out your secret.”
“No. Of course not. But... well, that’s what makes this love story so special, so unique. You instantly fall head-over-heals in love with Superman. Clark instantly falls head-over-heals in love with you. It’s the ultimate love triangle.”
Lois crinkled her eyebrows as she thought about that. He had a point. By figuring it out this early, was she risking the love story? Maybe. And what was more important to her - the love story or having people know she wasn’t galactically stupid? A small grin quirked at the corner of her mouth as her eyes again wandered down his body. Well, maybe she wouldn’t do it for the love story - after all, she wasn’t entirely sure she believed in love - but... if she played her cards right, in three years she’d have exclusive access to that body. The grin on her face widened.
“Fine,” she said with resignation. “We’ll do this your way.” She took a step back until she was again standing outside his hotel room.
He gave her a smile before softly closing the door.
Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand, knocking on the wood. She’d told him she’d pick him up at nine. So why was he taking so long to answer? This was why she hated working with partners - they never took the job as seriously as she did. She raised her hand again when the door suddenly opened and...
Lois’ mouth went slack when she saw... Muscles and sinew, knitted together in perfect unity. Or... well, she was getting ahead of herself. It was obvious that she’d interrupted his shower. His hair, although combed neatly back, was still wet. A single strand, stubbornly refusing its place with the rest of his hair, dropped onto his forehead leaving Lois with the sudden, and quite unexpected, impulse to push it back in place.
She fought the impulse off. And had it only been his hair, she might have been successful in ignoring the gorgeous specimen standing in front of her. But her eyes didn’t stay on that lock of hair. Pretty much ignoring his face, her eyes sought to know the body. Arms that she’d have a problem getting both hands around. A broad chest with hard pecks which tapered into a narrow waist. Everywhere she looked, she was confronted by bulging muscles and nowhere could she spot an ounce of extra fat.
His body was still glimmering as small droplets of water clung to it. One suddenly took that moment to escape, running down his stomach to disappear in the simple white towel that was wrapped around his waist. Her tongue was suddenly begging to be allowed to dart out and catch that particular droplet.
Yet this entire exploration took only a matter of seconds before she managed to forcibly remind herself to look away, to meet his eyes. She was there for work. The Messenger. The shuttle. The space program. Story. Plot against. Right.
She cleared her throat, hoping that her voice would work in spite of the sudden lack of moisture in her mouth. “It’s nine o’clock. I thought you’d be naked... umm... ready,” she said, meeting his amused expression. As he turned, heading for the washroom, she stepped inside, closing the door.
For a moment, she leaned against it, hoping people would appreciate the sacrifice she was making in order to keep the love story alive - even as, in her mind’s eye, she was again exploring that body.
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The End
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Oh, by the way, did I mention that this story is one of the deleated scenes from the Pilot?
Edited by Admin to include part no in header.
