(NOTE FROM ALICIA: Please read the real ending first
. And comment (on both endings), I like comments even if they are bad.)
TOC Last time, on Swear to God, This Time We're Eloping:
At the registration window, a grandmotherly woman smiled at them kindly. "Welcome to the Express Tunnel of Love. Legal marriages in 5 minutes or less, guaranteed. May I help you, dears," she said.
There was another couple in the waiting room before them. What were they going to do? Wait? And were they expected to wait *calmly*?
They had waited so long and gone through so much to get to this moment, and now they had to wait again. Did someone out there really hate them? Were they just little pawns in some evil being's diabolically humorous game?
"A lot can happen in five minutes, Clark." Lois shook her head slowly. As she studied the other couple, she said, "Clark, look at those two!" She moved her head to indicate a woman curled up in a man's lap -- both fast asleep with four bottles of what appeared to be vodka by their feet. "It's 2 pm here; they're sure hitting the bottle early."
Neither member of the other couple stirred as their names were called. As Lois had predicted, the elderly woman moved on to the next couple on the list. "Lois and Clark."
"Very good," the woman said. Then she opened the door to the Tunnel of Love. "Please, go through and give your license to Barry. He and Elvis will sign it as your witnesses and then we'll take care of sending it to the state. We *are* a full service chapel." Her saleswoman demeanor softened and she said, "Congratulations."
The receptionist practically pushed the couple through the door and slammed it after them. Yes, this place was certainly efficient. Lois and Clark wouldn't want it any other way. Their word of the day was "efficiency."
The Tunnel of Love was in the same décor as the lobby, with thousands of tiny star lights and mirrored walls. A small, bald, antediluvian man was standing behind a pulpit. Elvis -- or someone dressed to look like him -- was sitting on a chair beside him.
And now...
"Um, just a second," Lois stammered. "I'll be right back."
Clark couldn't believe his ears. "What is it, Lois? Can't it wait? We only have five minutes!"
"No, Clark, it can't," Lois hissed. "I need to use the, uh, little bride's room."
"Oh!" Clark blushed. "Well, hurry back, honey." He turned to Barry, "Can you wait just a minute?"
Barry sighed, and checked his watch. "It's
your five minutes." He shrugged. Not wanting to waste any time, Clark pulled the license out for Barry and "Elvis" to sign.
Clark turned at the sound of a closing door. Lois sure had returned quickly. Chuckling silently, Clark noticed that even in her haste, she had taken the time to straighten her hair. It had been a bit windblown, from their supersonic flight.
"Are we ready?" Barry asked. Not even waiting for them to nod, he began.
Clark heard just enough of the ceremony to respond at the appropriate points. He could only focus on the sound of Lois' heartbeat, in rapid counterpoint to his own. All other sounds faded into insignificance, as he gazed into her eyes. The words, "You may now kiss the bride," brought Clark back to full awareness. As he captured Lois' lips with his own, Clark noticed an odd yet familiar taste. She must have applied a fresh coat of lipstick in the bathroom, too.
As he pulled away, Clark noticed "Elvis" rapidly -- almost furtively -- stuffing the license into a preaddressed envelope. Before Clark could ask what he was doing, "Elvis" quickly explained, in a strangely familiar voice, "Full service operation, here. You do know that the license is what makes this ceremony legally binding, right?" Something about "Elvis'" manner seemed odd. Where did Clark know that voice from? Suddenly suspicious, Clark lowered his glasses to examine the license, now sealed inside the envelope. The words "by proxy" and "Maxwell Deter" leapt out at him.
Deter?! With an inarticulate growl, Clark yanked the wig and sunglasses off "Elvis'" head. "
DETER!"
Any further reaction was preempted by a familiar, jovial drawl. "A reunion! Oh, how touching. Sorry, but I had another one planned." Filled with dread, Clark slowly turned to face the oddly sprightly nonagenarian. "Well, duh. Surprised?" From a pocket, he had extracted a small metal box, which sprang open at his touch. A sickening green glow was revealed. Now stunned physically as well, Clark dropped to his knees. Through pain-dulled eyes, Clark looked up at an oddly passive Lois. Why didn't she
do something? "Well, Mr. Kent, Ms. Lane," the cleverly-disguised Tempus continued. "Now that the cat's out of the bag, or box, you see that there is more than one way to skin a Superman. There is always another way to foil Utopia. It's been fun, but now it's time for the boom." As he spoke, he pulled sharply on his tie. Sure enough, there was a loud BOOM!
Unfortunately, the sudden explosion propelled Tempus and the nearby Deter on top of Clark, and sent Lois flying, aaah, splat! Fortunately, it also caused the small lead box to slam shut. Unfortunately, Clark was already too weak to do anything but gasp for breath. Fortunately, one of the felled bodies began to stir, and managed to stand. Unfortunately, it was Tempus, latex mask half-peeled away. Fortunately, he only made it as far as the closest chair, where he collapsed.
Gasping, Tempus angrily examined his bloody chest. "Damn shoddy workmanship! This vest was rated to withstand a full megaton!" With a faint smile, he whispered, "I suppose that's to be expected when one does away with Utopia. Isn't that iro-" But alas, Tempus spoke no more.
Although still dazed, Clark felt his strength gradually returning. With some effort, he managed to extract himself from under Deter. Somehow, Clark could not work up much sorrow, knowing that Deter would never again be a nuisance... to anyone. Clark's attention quickly turned to Lois' still form.
Very still form. NO! She couldn't be! They had come so close! It wasn't
fair!
A movement! Not breathing . . . not a heartbeat . . . was that something in her
pocket? With some trepidation, Clark reached in, and pulled out . . . what the heck? . . . a small, green, FROG! She was a clone?! But wait, that meant the real Lois was still alive!
Dizzy again, from the series of shocks compounded by kryptonite poisoning, Clark found an empty chair. Taking a steadying breath, Clark tried to figure out when and how Lois could possibly have been replaced
this time. She hadn't left his side! Except . . . no. Oh, no.
As quickly as he could, Clark burst into the ladies' room. There was a woman standing at the mirror. She was slender and had short, dark hair. For a moment, Clark dared to hope. Hearing his sudden entrance, the woman spun around. Hope, as well as his eardrums, was shattered by her shriek. Before Clark could speak, she ran out of the room, leaving him in an empty room. He slumped against the curtain-draped wall dejectedly.
To his surprise, part of the wall moved. Clark jumped up, spun into the Suit, and ripped the curtain down uncovering a door. The door was unlocked, and opened easily, leading . . . behind the registration counter?
The oh-so-helpful relic behind the counter was suspiciously absent. Clark looked over the counter at the now fully-awake, frightened drunken couple. The man -- Alan? -- was trying to tell him something. "L . . . L . . . Lu . . ." he stammered.
Feeling like he had eaten too much of Lois' cooking, Clark asked, "Luthor?" At Alan's nod, Clark groaned.
"He -- she -- he -- the clerk!" the man managed.
Frustrated, Clark demanded, "What
about the clerk? Did Luthor kidnap her?"
The woman, who had been listening silently, interrupted. "No! The clerk WAS Luthor! She -- he -- took off this mask, and left with some young woman. A brunette." Blithely ignoring the pot-kettle aspects, she continued, "She seemed a little out of it. I think she was drunk."
Clark sat down heavily in the clerk's abandoned chair. He rested his hand in his palms, moaning softly. "Not again.... no, not AGAIN!"
FIN
