Hi Evie!
âOh, no,â he said on a groan. âI know that look.â
She grinned at him.
*****
Chapter 8
One week later.
One *week* later? You trying to give us whip-lash? Or is that WIP-lash?
âbut I have never been that hot in my life!â She tried to wipe her face with the towel, then tsked. âUgh! This mud is so caked on, Iâll never get it all off.â
Whatâs going on? And couldnât Superclark help her wash it out of her hair and of her face while sheâs standing in the shower?
âWell, you looked busy with the guys firing at us from the truck.â
âNot so busy that I didnât have time to stop that guy from holding your head down in the mud.â
Their banter is the most adorable treat!
Lois suffocating as the courier theyâd been trailing held her face down in a shallow pool of muddy water for what seemed like an immeasurable amount of time.
Lois has very well developed lung capacity.
âGood news, though â we donât have to go back to the Congo,â she said sarcastically. âI brought half the rainforest home on me!
It went much better than it did with Alt-Lois&Clark. That Lois supposedly got killed in the Congo while for our pair, only Clark had to supposedly die.
Iâm sure the next package of diamonds is just buried in this mud somewhere.â
Yes, and one might just stick to her ring finger
He absolutely did not grin at that.
Uh-huh.
CLAR: She did not see me grin so it did not happen.
He glanced at the little digital clock on her oven; timekeeping was the applianceâs single use.
What? Itâs good for storing shoes. You got a surface on top. It looks stylish and it got a clock built into it. Wouldnât you prefer I got a grandfather clock instead?
even covered in mud, looking and smelling like sheâd been dragged through a burnt-out jungle in the middle of the night.
Which, of course, she had.
His smile didnât diminish as he obediently headed for the window, content to use his powers for once not just for the preservation of the endless masses, but solely to make her happy.
Thereâs *other* ways he could also make her happy using his powers.
*squints* are you giving us a back-to-normal montage?
âRight, but he canât be running this operation from beyond the grave.â
He could be undead.
Luthor supplied the ship and the fake inventory for the initial buy-in, but thereâs still someone out there now paying the crew, buying up his old properties, hiring the thugs to transport the stuff from the docks, bribing port officials,â she looked to him for confirmation here, and he nodded, affirming the cash heâd seen changing hands tonight, âand keeping the whole thing running.
What about an international criminal conglomerate based out of Chicago?
When I cross-reference the millionaires with whoâs been in and out of Metropolis in the last year, and narrow that down to the people with sole interests â meaning they arenât in a partnership â that leaves us with five.â She cleared her throat. âFour, taking into account Luthorâs death.â
Sour as any mention of Luthor made him, he was impressed. Sheâd gotten a lot done on her end. âFour is a lot easier than fifty.â
Sheâs a smart cookie!
and Bruce Wayne, the Gotham playboy. Wayneâs on the board of two of Metropolisâ orphanages, and heâs in town often enough.â
The whole list, I really was expecting Bill Church to show up. I mean, he did start at the beginning of Season Two. But, given your list, my money is on the last one. Those Gothamites have an awful reputation. And a playboy interested in little boys? Yeah, he sounds like a crook of some sort.
âSheâs not worth nearly as much since the divorce. Her husband managed to get on the board and they voted her out.â
Thatâs why successful billionaires donât divorce. They widow.
âMisogynistic business practices at their finest,â she said wryly.
From her tone of voice, he had a feeling heâd be seeing that exposĂ© soon.
âItâs just⊠tracking down an exclusive interview with a millionaire, breaking into his office⊠thatâs how it all started with Luthor. I donât know if itâs such a good idea.â
Why, Arthor Chowâs already happily married. For now. Lois should be safe from his advances.
Sheâd not only survived what heâd put her through, but come out of the experience with more compassion for her tormentor.
Itâs probably Stockholm Syndrome.
For a woman that didnât actually care much for material wealth, she somehow gravitated toward men that had made it their specialty.
Those man have âproviderâ stamped all over their forehead. They say itâs genetics.
He chose to let her taste in millionaires go. After all, sheâd picked him.
Yes, the heir to a planet. Well, more like a small, barren rock in space now, but still, lots of real estate.
He frowned. âMore than we already are? Itâs the middle of the night and Iâm just getting back from Africa while youâve beenâŠâ his eyes roved over the scene in front of him again and he suppressed a grin, ââŠbuilding yourself a fort out of printing paper.â
She stuck her tongue out at him.
Sheâs extremely cute!
âIt doesnât leave much time for anything else.â
Naughty, naughty, Superman!
She hadnât replied directly, but Clark couldnât hide his delight that sheâd called off work for the evening. Sheâd essentially put their relationship before the story, he realized. If he didnât know her this well, heâd have missed how meaningful that was.
Awwww
âJust how were you planning to get out of there?â he asked, dragging his eyes from her curves to the paper-ream castle with one eyebrow raised.
also, a 3ft high wall of paper, if that thing tumbles or a gust of wind appears, oh boy. I mean, each pile is about 8,000 sheets of paper. This means sheâs surrounded by what⊠160,000 sheets of paper weighing 800 pounds?
âWell, I was hoping my boyfriend would be chivalrous and scale the walls,â she said, testing her weight on both legs again.
Rapunzel!
âBoyfriend?â he asked, stunned at her casual use of the appellation. He hadnât known that word was in her lexicon.
Ooooh!
âChivalrous,â she reinforced tartly, gesturing to him.
âBoyfriend?â he repeated, knowing there was a goonily happy look on his face.
Her lips curved into a soft answering smile.
âArenât you?â
âYes,â he answered immediately. He wasnât stupid, after all.
âSo, then, boyfriend, pizza tonight?â
And this is how we get from âex-fiance pizzaâ to âboyfriend, pizzaâ.
âCan I pick the toppings?â
Of course she could.
Heâd give her just about anything.
Iâll just rinse and repeat: awwwwwwwww
Michael
