Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Sign of the Times: Behind the Mask (1/1)

The Planet staff meeting had barely begun, and Clark Kent was already struggling to focus. He shifted in his chair and tried to pay attention as Eduardo rattled off the latest news and whispers in sports. Despite his efforts, though, Clark's thoughts kept drifting to the strange man living with Cat Grant. “Red Tornado”, he'd called himself, but that wasn't really a name any more than “Superman” was. The red tights and the mask with no eye-holes also weren't exactly normal menswear, and the speed at which he'd moved...could he be somehow connected to Clark?

“Cat!” their editor barked with enough force that Clark finally snapped out of his musings. “What are you currently working on?”

“Or 'who',” Lois muttered just under her breath.

Cat glanced at the faces around the table, looking surprisingly uncomfortable. Her eyes focused onto Perry. “I...” She cleared her throat. “An anonymous source tipped me off that Walter Willoughby might not be as squeaky clean as we all thought. I have a list of women that I'm going to be—”

Perry held up a hand. “Hold on a minute. Walter Willoughby? America's 'Uncle Walty'? *That* Walter Willoughby?” He gave her a skeptical look.

After a brief hesitation, Cat simply said, “Yes.”

All eyes in the room were suddenly riveted to Cat. It didn't take long for someone to snicker.

“Your source must have gotten into the expired WaltyPops,” Eduardo mused aloud.

Jimmy shook his head, grinning. “Cat, Uncle Walty doesn't even cameo in movies unless they cut all the swear words out of the script! Do you *really* think he's got skeletons in his closet?”

“The only thing in that closet is a bunch of tacky sweaters,” quipped Ralph.

The meeting soon devolved into laughter and bad voice impressions of America's Favorite Uncle. Even Clark had difficulty keeping a straight face as Greg from the business section play-acted Uncle Walty robbing a bank, with one of the kids from the classic show apparently roped into being a get-away driver. Brenda from international news gave her rendition of Uncle Walty as a mafioso dealing in the popsicle trade. Cat sat quietly in her chair, seemingly focused on rearranging her notes.

“Enough!” Perry finally shouted, stilling the chaos. He turned back to the gossip columnist. “Cat, I hope you remember that this is the Daily Planet and not some rag reporting on the latest Elvis sightings. I don't expect your stories to be as serious as anything on city beat, but I do expect all sections of this paper to help maintain our credibility.

Cat nodded once, her expression blank.

“Lane! Kent!” Their editor turned his attention to them, and the discussion moved on to Jason Trask, the government agent George Thompson, and their fruitless-so-far investigation into the men who had recently raided the Planet for information on Superman.

**********

“Of course I believe you,” Cat reassured the sobbing woman over the phone. She clicked the nearly-dry pen shut and set it down beside the notepad on her kitchen table. “I promise, even if the story never makes it past my editor, you'll still have someone who knows what happened.”

The woman hiccuped. “Th-thank you!”

They said their goodbyes, and Cat hung the phone back in its cradle on the wall. Upon returning to the table, she stared for a minute at the scrawled shorthand before flipping back to the first page. The list of names Jordan had given her had acquired a mix of check-marks and question marks, and with a despondent sigh, she placed a check next to another name. She stared at the list for a while, fighting a mix of anger and nausea, then flipped the pad over so that only it's cardboard back was visible.

Cat fetched a glass from the cabinet and poured herself a generous measure of wine. The fruity notes helped mask the taste of rising bile, but what she really needed was a good distraction from this whole depressing business...

As if in answer to prayer, a knock sounded at her door.

Wine in hand, Cat sauntered over to the door and opened it to find her land-lady looking especially dour. “Mrs. Abernathy!” She sipped her wine. “Such a surprise. How are you tonight?”

The older woman snorted. “Grant, about half of my mail is noise complaints about this apartment! I need you to start keeping it down!”

Cat tried to look appropriately contrite. “Sorry. The guy I'm with is deaf, and he can't tell when he's being noisy.”

“*HE'S* not the one being too loud,” Mrs. Abernathy steamed.

Cat cleared the surprise from her face almost immediately and gave the most lascivious grin she could muster. “Are you jealous?”

The woman turned redder than her dye-job, then huffed and stomped off. Cat closed the door behind her. She hadn't quite made it to the couch, though, when someone knocked again. Had the old biddy decided to return fire?

She opened the door to find not a graying old biddy, but that prototype for male perfection: Clark Kent. Oh, this would be delightful! Cat leaned against the doorway, letting the wineglass dangle from her fingers in a display of sultry nonchalance. “Clark!” she purred. “What brings you by? Have you finally given in to my raw, sexual charisma?”

His face turned an amusing shade of crimson.

Cat hid her smile by taking another sip from the wine and decided to show mercy. “Or are you just here to see my roommate?”

He cleared his throat and visibly collected himself. “Uh, hi, Cat. I actually need to talk to you about your roommate, if you've got a minute?”

Curious, Cat opened the door wider and waved him in. “Of course.” As soon as Clark was inside and the door shut, she accompanied him to the sofa. “So,” she drawled, stretching her long legs out to rest her feet on the coffee-table, "are you hoping I'll dish out some dirt on him? Because you might not want anything I'll tell you, unless you're looking for pointers.”

Again, Clark did an amazing impression of a beet, and again Cat hit her grin behind the wineglass. A moment passed before he managed to speak. “Is your roommate planning to go public? As Red Tornado?”

“We've discussed it,” Cat said mildly, keeping her face neutral. “Why? Afraid he'll be competition for Superman?” She leaned back and savored another sip of wine.

“It's not a competition,” Clark said quietly and with all seriousness. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “The problem is... I was on my way to meet a source and I saw your roommate coming out of a...um...” His voice lowered, even though it was just the two of them in the apartment. “An... establishment.”

Cat managed not to choke on the wine. “An establishment?” She looked at Clark with an innocent expression. “Well, goodness, Clark; surely a superhero is allowed to go shopping?”

His ears reddened again. “It was a certain kind of establishment,” he elaborated in a near-mumble. “The kind with...um...women. Dancers. The kind with dancers.” The blush deepened, and Cat awarded herself another point.

Of course, Cat already knew what establishment he was talking about. Since she'd had to put a few things on hold while investigating the man she now dubbed “America's Creepy Uncle”, she had asked Jordan to run a few errands for her. This included taking a package to a dear friend who tended bar at one of Metropolis's more popular “establishments with dancers”. In light of the stress he'd been under with trying to unravel the mysteries of time-travel, Cat had considered giving Jordan some pocket money and a warm invitation to unwind a little before coming home. At the last minute, though, she remembered that tonight was Ladies' Night, and Jordan probably wouldn't enjoy Dale's performance as much as she would.

Cat grinned. “So you saw him leaving a strip club. What are you, his father?” She chuckled at her own private joke.

Clark let out a breath, looking irritated. “Look, if he plans on outing himself to the world, then he needs avoid any inappropriate behavior!”

“Inappropriate behavior?” She rolled her eyes and removed her feet from the coffee table, setting the glass down in their place. “Now you sound like my home economics teacher! Are you going to smack him with a ruler and make him pray to the Virgin for help changing his wicked ways?”

“Of course not!” He briefly held up his hands in a placating gesture. When he lowered them again, his expression was one of genuine concern. “But you know how powerful he is, likely much better than I do. You've also seen how paranoid Trask and his men are about Superman, even though no one's ever seen Superman do anything illegal or immoral or even remotely controversial! What are people going to think when they find out that someone with those abilities can have a sex drive?!”

Cat silently awarded Clark a point for uttering that last phrase without changing color, but then again, the game was clearly over. She picked up her wine again and shifted to face him more fully. “They'll think he's human.”

“He isn't,” Clark said firmly.

Did he somehow suspect the truth? Cat arched an eyebrow at him. “You seem awfully sure of that.”

“Maybe he used to be, before he got his powers,” Clark conceded. “But once you're strong enough or fast enough to be functionally a living weapon, that's it. You can't afford to let anyone realize that someone like you is capable of being selfish, or petty, or just generally subject to basic human failings.”

She took a long sip of her wine while scrutinizing him. “So Superman isn't human either?”

“I don't know if he ever was,” Clark said quietly. “But if he was, he's not anymore.”

Cat stared at him. “You really believe that, don't you,” she breathed.

“Cat, people—” He looked her over momentarily. “—most people—get very frightened by anything, or anyone, who's different. A man who finds women attractive is just a man. A man who moves faster than bullets and finds a women attractive is a potential predator. A man who gets angry is just a man. A man who bends steel and gets angry is a global threat for people like Trask to take down.” He fell silent for a moment. “I'm actually glad that Red Tornado has you. I know some girls who would have immediately called him a monster and refused to have anything to do with him.”

Something in Clark's forlorn expression gave Cat the feeling that his assessment of those other girls was based on lived experience. Hugging him might raise questions, though, so she fought the urge. “Jor—um, Tornado is a sweet guy. Would you rather he be a sweet guy with a few rough edges, or a psychopathic monster with a reputation so clean that no one would believe his victims?”

Clark shook his head. “If he goes public, then neither. Obviously he should have a good heart, but for his own sake, people can't ever see him do anything wrong. He'll need their trust, Cat, and they won't give it if he has 'rough edges'.”

She took a long, slow drink from her glass while thinking this over, then reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Clark, I was raised Catholic. The idea that a good man can go his whole life without doing anything wrong and still wind up with people wanting him dead is a big part of why we exist.”

He chuckled at that. “Fair enough.”

“Anyway, maybe it's for the best if people know he's capable of screwing up.” She withdrew her hand and tucked her feet under herself on the sofa cushion. “That way, they'll hold him accountable for his decisions instead of letting him hide behind a reputation of being too good and pure to do wrong.”

Clark stared at her for a long while, and it felt as though he were studying her. “I'm sorry for laughing at your Walter Willoughby pitch.”

Cat shrugged. “You weren't the only one laughing.”

He shook his head. “That doesn't make it right. Granted, I certainly hope none of it's true. It's hard to think about someone you practically grew up with having a dark side.”

“It really is.” Cat stared into the wine-glass and tried to keep the hurt and betrayal out of her voice.

“I myself have some suspicions about a man everyone seems to love,” Clark noted. “But for now, let's just leave it at that.”

Cat looked up at him again, intrigued. Was he suspicious of Luthor already? Jordan hadn't gone into that much detail about the fall of Metropolis's favorite son, but apparently the country boy was sharper than she'd given him credit for.

“When do you think the rest of the world will turn on Superman?” Clark asked quietly, staring down at her coffee table.

Cat gaped at him, stunned. “When?” she echoed. “Why are you so sure they even will?”

He shrugged. “Trask is already looking for him,” he replied, as though the conclusions from it were obvious.

“Trask and his goons do not speak for the rest of humanity,” Cat snapped. The remainder of the wine sloshed dangerously in her glass.

“They're part of humanity,” He pointed out.

“So is Red Tornado,” she said. “And so is Superman.”

A ghost of a smile flashed across his face, and then he stood. “I need to get going; Lois is going to ask me if I found anything out tonight, and I can't just put off giving her the bad news forever.” He paused at the door. “Cat, I know it's not my business, but...please, just warn him to stay safe.”

“I'll talk to him,” she pledged. Of course, there was no need to tell Clark what she actually planned to say...

“Thank you.” Clark smiled at her, genuinely and fully, and it occurred to Cat that this smile was far more dangerous than all of the other powers combined. He might look like an innocent farm-boy, or an overly chaste superhero, but the truth was more than clear: Lois Lane was doomed.

After seeing her guest out, Cat drained the last of her wine. She padded into the kitchenette and set the empty glass in the sink. Her eye fell on the notepad still lying upside-down on the table. With a sigh, she grabbed the phone off the hook, turned the notepad over, and proceeded to the next name on the list.




END

FDK can go here. I hope yall enjoy.

First: Cool series title!
So Clark just left without getting/asking for any more explanation from Jordan/Red Tornado the last time? OK that's...weird...
Ah, Jordan giving Cat some clues for a story, handy future knowledge and all that. Could prevent "Uncle Walty" from causing more harm for quite some time, maybe. There are many ways to be a hero. And the timeline is already a screw-up as it is so why bother?
Yeah, I see the Luthor parallels there... Everyone being so "Never-ever" seems a bit odd though. Like there are tons of stories of seemingly "good" celibrities having dark secrets of varoius shades so it's not like that didn't happen before. (Granted there's also a lot of false rumors floating around so there's that too)
Poor Cat. HEaring from people and actually proving what you know are two very different things, especially if there's a public reputation. And it's all in the pre-social media age so that makes it more complicated.
The convo between Cat and Clark was both hilarious and very emotional. Clark already acting as Jordan's dad even without him knowing. Him projecting a lot of his own fears and experiences on his fellow Super who may or may not go public (why do I get the feel a perosn who might be named Lana could be involved there...?). Cat assuming it's out of councurrence fears is interesting (she certainly noticed the uneasy relationship of Jordan and future Clark). I wonder if some of Jordan's...rough edges...are part of the reason for their apparent future conflicts? As in Clakr fears Jordan's behavior might bring him into trouble with the public but because he's the dad, he's bad at communicating that well, maybe. And yes, it's really obvious we have "Baby Superman" still, here. He hasn't really figured it out yet.
Cat makes some good points though. MAybe that will help him. Also comparing Clark's situation with that of the creepy celibrity was interesting. And she already knows about Lex..wonder if she's gonna do anything about that.
Also, something tells me that if/when Clark finds the globe and hears the name "Jor-El", he could remember Cat's "Jor" slip reg. Tornado, which could lead to a lot of funny confussion.
(CLARK: Tornado. You are my father.
JORDAN: ...???)
Oh, and the landlady LOL. Cat is a sassy one, isn't she?
Also, it appears tha tfor a Cat(holic), she has an...urm...interesting way of doing some things that don't really fit in then, but who's to judge?
Anyway, another great piece! Now, I'm eagerly awaiting the superhero debut #2 of Red Tornado in the toasters' cl...establishment.

PS: While reading, I stumbled about a few typos and such. You might want to do another proof-check.

Hi BP, thanks for all the comments!


Most of the celebrity scandal was based on a real life incident several years ago. I don't know how much American news makes its way abroad, but there was apparently quite a lot of "Never Ever!" until the courts officially ruled "Uh, yeah. He did."

Well, his pager did go off at the worst possible time.

Ah, thank you! I shall.

Hi Mary!

/looks at title /
Hmmm
/looks at author notes/
Duh!
Okay, perhaps the text will tell us which version of Clark you’re gonna torture this time.
Aaah, so it really is the one with the cougar.
LOIS: /FREEZES/
No, the *other* cougar.

Actually, Dances-with-Criminals might want to weigh in. And that’s before we get to kryptonian naming practices.

Lois won’t like that there’s a Chip Off The Old Clark flying about.

Nice callback to season one dialogue.

I just re-watched Beverly Hills Cop 3. /points at Uncle Dave/

There’s a reason they never found any prostitutes who could talk about their night with The Uncle.

Ooooh, very inspired

/imagines Cat tapping Jordan on the shoulder and imitating the sign Anya made to Xander in the Buffy episode “Hush”/

No more Bongo drums?

Yes, blame it on the disabled person.
JORDAN: I’m *deaf*.
/places kryptonite in front of him/
JORDAN:
JORDAN: Sorry for collapsing so noisily?
TEMPUS:

CAT: Sorry, the deaf guy I’m with can’t tell when he makes me scream when I’m with him?



Yes, the prototype. Still has some kinks in the system. Like his Lois Lane fixation.
CLARK: Miss Lane?

He probably wants to get tips how to be with Lois safely. Maybe Jordan can give the poor guy some pointers.
JORDAN:

/points above/

/points at Lois/
JORDAN: Not. Funny. /burns Back to the Future tapes/



No doubt a source of valuable intelligence.

JORDAN: /pulls out wad of one dollar bills and mimes dance moves/

That’s Clark’s reason?
CLARK: Lois wouldn’t approve.

/points at bachelor auction. Points at Chip Off The Old Clark. Points at Lois. Points at nfic section./

Clark : See?

At least until Lois re-adjusts him.

/points at Homelander/

Well, I wouldn’t say they *love* President Tempus, but he’s such a darn nice guy!

It’s because Lex made mooney eyes to Lois.

“Had fun with the girls?”



Another fun ride!

Michael

@Michael
QUOTE
<Lex made mooney eyes to Lois>
When first going through this, I read "money eyes"...would fit too tough