From part 34:
“Does Perry really have a three times and you’re out policy?”
Cat laughed. “Nah - I made that up. If it were true, Ralph would’ve been canned a long time ago. He probably passed his third warning the first year he worked here; I think he’s in the triple digits by now. The only reason Perry keeps him around is because every time he sends Ralph to sensitivity classes, he makes him pay a fee.”
“I thought all those classes were free,” Lois said. Certainly the self-defense classes she’d taken were free.
Cat laughed again. “They are. Perry puts Ralph’s fees in the office kitty – I think Ralph has single-handedly footed the bill for the last three Christmas parties.”
As Lois laughed, Cat stood up, gave her a little wave, and walked off.---
The Girl Next Door, part 35:
Lois was still sitting there, finishing up the last of her day’s work and occasionally smiling over her conversation with Cat, when Clark walked through the stairwell door.
Her smile widened when she saw him, safe and sound. All that worrying for nothing! Whoever was behind those tests had *really* better hope Superman got to him or her first. Because if Lois Lane got there first…
Of course, if it was Luthor, he was safe from the wrath of Mad Dog Lane – although not necessarily in a better place. Chances were good, in fact, that he *wasn’t* in a better place.
Hotter, yes. Better, very likely not.
If it *was* Luthor, he was beyond their reach.
Well, if the frustration level went too high, she could always put up a nice big photo of him and throw darts at it.
Clark arrived at her desk, interrupting her musing.
“Everything okay?” she asked softly.
He perched on the edge of her desk, smiling cheerfully down at her. “Yep.”
They were the only two left in the newsroom; the lights had dimmed to the night settings and the last of the day staff had gone some time ago. Lois’s desk lamp cast a circle of light that seemed to enclose the two of them, making the vast newsroom seem more small and private.
Although there was no need for them to whisper, the atmosphere drove her to keep the conversation low and close – intimate, like their small island of lamplight.
She stood up and leaned a hip against the edge of her desk, eliminating the height difference between them. Smiling at him, she toyed with his tie, smoothing it, as she continued, still softly, “Everything in working order? Everything…” She leaned in close to him, lowering her voice to just above a whisper. “…and everyone safe?”
“Yes.” She could feel his breath on her face as he said equally softly, “Superman and the rescue guys got everyone out okay. There were no tests, no weird bullets or anything - nothing unusual about it at all…” He trailed off, lifting his hand to cradle her jaw, and she promptly forgot what she’d been about to say.
He didn’t speak, but he tipped his forehead against hers for a brief second, then pulled back slightly. “I…” he said, and kissed her gently.
Lifting his mouth from hers, he murmured, “…love…” and kissed her again, more firmly.
Lifting his mouth a mere hairsbreadth from hers, he whispered, “…you,” his breath warm on her lips, and this time, she was more than ready for his kiss. It started out firm, demanding - and flared almost immediately into one of the most powerful and passionate kisses she’d ever experienced.
With a groan, he tugged her more squarely in front of him, still half perching and half leaning against the desk, and she stepped forward willingly into the space between his long legs as he pulled her securely against him, chest to chest.
His arms enclosed her, one hand moving up to cradle the back of her head, and he rose to his feet, molding their bodies together before fusing his lips to hers.
By the time he lifted his head, they were both trembling.
He buried his face in her hair, still holding her tightly against him, and whispered, “Wow.”
She tipped her head slightly, into the angle of his neck and shoulder, and echoed, “Yeah – wow.” His arms tightened reflexively and she felt a shiver convulse him, all along the length of where they were pressed against each other, as her breath brushed over his skin.
Intrigued, she blew gently over the same skin, and he shivered again. She began feathering kisses along his neck, up toward his ear, and he moaned her name in a voice so low and rough that it made *her* shiver. She reached his earlobe and took it gently between her teeth, and she felt them both leave the floor.
Dimly, part of her recognized that they shouldn’t be floating, but she didn’t want to stop provoking Clark’s delightful reactions. Without finesse, she pushed them both back down toward the floor, still toying gently with his earlobe. “We need to stay down –“ she began, directly into his ear.
The effect on him was instantaneous. With a moan, he lifted her head, seeking her mouth, and kissed her again, fiercely, his hands beginning to roam up and down her back. She threaded her fingers into his hair, holding him there at her mouth, willingly giving him full access.
It wasn’t until their heads bumped the light fixture that she realized they’d left the floor again. Clark lifted his mouth from hers, looking dazed, and stared at her, breathing roughly. Equally out of breath, she stared back for a moment, then laughed softly and whispered, “We’re floating.”
“Yeah…” he managed, glancing down at the desks below them, and brought them back to the floor. He did it clumsily, because having called their gravitational issues to his attention, she’d felt free to thread her fingers into his hair and return to kissing him.
They ended up leaning against her desk again, almost in their original positions. This time, though, his hands smoothed up and down her back and along her sides, and she arched into him, making them both moan.
His big frame trembled against her as she let her own hands wander. When she stroked over his pectorals and across his chest, he said her name in that low, rough voice that set her trembling again.
He took her mouth again in several deep, passionate kisses. An eon later, and way too fast, he lifted his head, pulling back enough to allow them both to gasp for air. As they stared at each other, he drew in a deep breath, glanced around them as if just now remembering where they were, and then leaned forward and kissed her again, this time more gently.
“I didn’t intend for that to get so out of control,” he finally murmured against her lips. He framed her face in his hands and kissed her again, the merest brush of his mouth that was somehow just as powerful as his earlier kisses. ”But I just couldn’t help myself.”
She smiled softly at him. “I can relate, Clark – I couldn’t help myself, either.”
His arms had loosened somewhat and were back around her waist as they stood, still close together but in a less intimate embrace, slowly regaining their equilibriums.
“Mmmm. I don’t want to let go of you,” he said eventually, and she laughed softly against him. She didn’t feel like letting him go, either.
Finally, though, he pulled away further. “Are you ready to go?”
She frowned somewhat unconvincingly in thought. “Hmm. I don’t know,” she mused. “Go where?”
“Home, of course.” He grinned at her.
“Well,” she said, drawing it out, “that depends. Whose home? And will there be more of that –“ Her own grin broadened. “…*togetherness* when we get there?”
He pulled her back tightly against him for a moment, and she felt the warmth and strength of him all along her own length. “Yes,” he whispered, bending his head so that his lips were close to her ear.
She shivered deliciously. “Then my vote is yes,” she said unsteadily.
“My place?” Again it was whispered against her ear, and she shivered again.
“Uh… What was the question, again?”
Laughing, he pulled away from her, framed her face gently with his hands and dropped a quick kiss on her mouth. “Questions. Several of them,” he said, still laughing, and repeated, “Are you ready to go? Home? To my place?”
“Oh, yeah. Now I remember,” she rejoined teasingly. “Yes.” She stretched up and kissed him quickly.
“And yes.” She kissed him again, another quick joining of their mouths.
“And… definitely,” she said huskily. The third kiss was not as short, and this one was full of promise. “Your couches are more comfortable.”
On their shared laughter, they collected their things and headed for the roof.
---
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about something.” Lois spoke as Clark leaned forward to set his empty hot chocolate cup on the coffee table.
The flight to his apartment and the familiar routines of getting comfortable had muted the more intense feelings between them. Those feelings were still there, of course, simmering gently in the background.
They both knew that later on, when the last of the day’s commitments had been taken care of, they could turn up that heat. But there was no hurry, and as they’d spent some time going through the work they’d brought home, they’d both savored the awareness that flowed between them.
Over pizza – delivered by a regular Metropolis pizza deliveryman rather than by Superman express from some place farther away – and soda, they’d worked companionably on the last of the day’s assignments, only switching to super speed when the pizza was gone.
Now they were sitting on the couch together, finishing hot chocolate. Clark had turned on the evening news, low, but fortunately there was nothing that needed Superman’s attention.
He straightened up and smiled at her. “What?”
“How do you do the suit?”
He frowned. “The suit? Superman’s suit?”
She nodded. “Yes. When you change into the suit, and when you change back – do you stash an extra suit and extra clothes all over the city?”
“Oh.” He laughed. “No.”
“And in the summer,” she continued. “You can’t exactly wear it with shorts…”
Clark grinned at her. “Now that’s a mental image.”
She laughed. It *was* quite a mental image. “Seriously, Clark, what do you do? I can’t figure it out.”
He seemed surprised. “Didn’t you and Mom talk about this when she was making your suit?”
“No.” She grinned impishly at him. “We were too busy discussing your childhood.”
“Oh, boy. Tell me Mom didn’t show you my baby pictures.” He grinned at her.
She gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look. “Martha didn’t show me your baby pictures.”
He looked at her skeptically, one eyebrow up. “Uh huh. Why don’t I believe you?”
She lost the battle to keep a straight face. Laughing, she teased him, “But you were so *cute*, Clark! The photo of you in the cowboy boots, shorts, Snoopy t-shirt, and fireman’s hat, carrying a sword, was priceless.”
He grinned at her. “Hey, I was five. *I* thought it was a particularly elegant and sophisticated costume.”
“And here you are, twenty-some years later, still running around in a pretty unique get-up,” she said, giggling. “Some things never change.”
He leaned toward her. “Ms. Lane, are you implying Superman’s outfit isn’t elegant and sophisticated?”
“Hey, if the suit fits,” she shot at him, laughing even harder.
Growling, he wrapped her suddenly in his arms, tipping them both over sideways into the couch cushions. Her small shriek was cut off abruptly when he swooped in and kissed her soundly.
“Take it back,” he murmured, lifting his lips from hers.
“Never.” She was as breathless as she sounded. He was incredibly good at kissing.
“Take it back, or else,” he murmured, and kissed her again.
“Or else what?” she whispered, and felt him smile against her mouth.
“Mmm. I might have to get tough.” His voice was low and rough. He lifted his head, bringing his hands up to cradle her face, and she saw his love blazing from his eyes.
She tugged his head back down, giving him kiss for kiss. “What will you… Mmmmm,” she moaned as he trailed small kisses along her jaw and neck. “What… Oh, Clark…”
He rolled above her, returning to her mouth and deepening the kiss, and she realized dimly that they must be floating, because she felt very little of his weight.
“What… were we talking about?” she asked with difficulty, reluctant to stop kissing Clark long enough to talk.
“Who cares?” he growled, and for a long time they said nothing more.
---
“So what do you do with the suit?” she asked a long time later. They were more-or-less sitting on the couch, tucked together, and she moved a little so that she could look at him.
He sat up a little more, too, and grinned at her. “Well, I had some difficulty with it at first, you know.”
He leaned back into the couch cushions and propped his feet on the coffee table, tucking his hands behind his head. “Deciding how it all worked took some time. The first week or two, in particular – a lot of it was trial and error. Changing, for instance - where should I change? How did I change quickly? Did I wear the suit or stash it somewhere? …But then I’d have to make an excuse to go get it…”
She shifted to face him fully, propping an elbow on the back of the couch. “And… ?”
He smiled at her. “I was not real comfortable with stashing the suit - or my clothes – somewhere. How secure was it? I mean, a roof was probably okay, but… You never really know – a bird might… you know…” He paused, looking a little embarrassed.
She grinned impishly at him. Of course she knew what he meant. “No,” she said, giving him a wide-eyed look. “What do you mean?”
“Lois!” He drew her name out in exasperation, but he was grinning, too.
“So, to avoid bird you-know-what,” she teased him, “what do you do? I know you wear the suit sometimes,” she added more seriously, “but not always.”
He grinned at her. “Mom helped me figure it out. She made me a pocket in the cape. It’s way up high, just under where it attaches. It’s on the inside, incorporated into the lining.”
“Oh.” Lois’s cape had a pocket like that, too. “She did that with mine, too. I saw it, but I wasn’t sure what it was for, and I forgot to ask her about it.”
“Well, you put your clothes in there,” he explained.
She frowned. “How?” It was a pretty small pocket. “Wouldn’t it be bulky?”
He sat up. “Normally, yes. But you compress them down.” He pressed his palms together at right angles in demonstration. “…You can, you know - small and flat.”
She frowned again. “Surely not the shoes?”
“Well, yeah - that’s a bit harder,” he acknowledged. “I do leave those, sometimes. The Planet roof is safe.”
“What about the suit, though?”
“Same thing,” he said. “I compress it and put it in a pocket.” He grinned. “The boots, too, believe it or not, since Mom made them soft and flexible, like moccasins. They’ve got silicone soles; it isn’t damaged by compression.”
“In a pocket… Like your coat pocket?” She wasn’t sure if he was pulling her leg or not. She frowned at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
He laughed and spread his hands in innocence. “Swear to God, Lois. I compress the suit and put it in a pocket, and when I’m wearing the suit, I compress my clothes and put them in the cape pocket.”
“But… what about wrinkles?”
He laughed. “That’s the best part. Mom figured that out, too.”
“What do you do?”
“Ice breath and heat vision.” He said it as if it explained everything.
It didn’t. “What?”
He leaned forward, smiling. “I asked her the same thing – what about wrinkles? I reminded her that it would be bad enough to have wrinkles in the suit – those would stretch out some - but in my regular work clothes…”
“And?”
He laughed. “You know Mom. She listened to me patiently, and then without batting an eye, she told me to extract my clothes from the pocket, shake them out, ice them down, and then heat them up. And voila!“ He threw his arms out grandly. “...Steam treatment!”
She began to laugh. He was certainly fast enough that he could do all that, in addition to actually changing his clothes, without being seen. “Your mom is brilliant.”
-----
They spent the rest of the week – and the weekend - getting precisely nowhere on the investigation. Jimmy had nothing new, Bill Henderson had nothing new, and none of Lois’s contacts had anything new, either – even Bobby Bigmouth. And that was so unusual that the man gave her a discount, after a fashion, by announcing that the next time she needed something from him, she didn’t have to feed him.
“Even dessert, Lois. And coffee,” Bobby had told her earnestly. He’d been genuinely upset that he couldn’t give her any information, insisting that it had never happened before, and that it wouldn’t happen again. When she’d pointed out that she already wasn’t feeding him this time, anyway, since they were talking by phone, he’d hurried to clarify that she was to get genuine information for ‘free’ the next time, regardless.
Between her and Clark, who was part of the three-way call from his own desk, they managed to reassure Bobby that if he genuinely meant his generous offer, then they would graciously accept it, and that no, they weren’t even remotely worried that he might be losing his ‘edge.’
The conversation with Bobby had been a small island of shared humor between them in an otherwise drudgery-filled day, as they’d systematically checked with each of their sources, verifying information they already knew and getting precisely nothing new from any of them.
They took the time to speak to Perry one morning, telling him that Superman had mentioned that he would like to set up a charity.
“He said he’d like to… I don’t know, copyright his name, or something along those lines,” Lois said casually, as if she were repeating what Superman had told her, rather than advancing an idea she’d helped conceive. “You know it’s just a matter of time before his image is mass merchandised; he said the proceeds could go to a charity designed to help people in need.”
Perry listened thoughtfully before replying. “He’s got quite a grasp on the American way of making money for someone who’s been postulated to be an alien.” In a pronounced drawl, he added, “Especially since he’s only been around a short while…”
Clark shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but Lois immediately waved Perry’s comment away dismissively. “Perry, you read the interview he gave us. He said he’d always been that way but had only recently been able to help. He didn’t say anything about where he came from or how long he’d been here.”
Perry leaned back in his chair, an expression of polite interest on his face, but had said nothing. She had the idea that he was humoring her, but she suppressed it. If anything, he was probably wondering if she had some sort of news angle she was going to present along with Superman’s idea.
“Anyway,” she continued blithely, “you don’t have to be here in the U.S. very long at all to see how we mass merchandise everything… All you’d have to do would be to go to some fast food place, for instance - they’ve always got ads for their latest free toys on their menu boards, and the toys are always promoting something.”
Perry’s eyebrow shot up. “Superman eats fast food?”
Lois felt more than heard Clark’s smothered laugher.
“Perry, that’s just an example,” she said, exasperated. “I don’t know what he does for meals.”
<Yes, you do.>
She resisted the impulse to smack Clark. “I don’t even know if he *needs* to eat,” she added for good measure.
<You do too,> filtered through her mind.
<Hush,> she thought back at him, struggling to maintain her innocent expression.
“Well, I think Superman’s best bet is Franklin Stern,” Perry said impassively.
“The Daily Planet’s owner?” Clark asked, surprised.
“Yes. And a well-known philanthropist, as I’m sure you know. Not a flashy one like Lex Luthor,” he added. “Stern’s the real thing.”
The editor leaned forward and opened his center desk drawer, extracted a business card, and handed it to Lois. “More importantly, his son’s a lawyer. A corporate lawyer, and a good one. He’s a good man. Between Franklin and his son, they can help Superman set it up.”
“Thanks, Perry,” Lois said, taking the card. “We’ll tell Superman the next time we see him.”
As they left Perry’s office, Lois suddenly thought of something. “Clark, I was just thinking,” she said softly. “Could someone decide to… sue Superman, or his charity? I mean… right now, regardless of what that interview said, a lot of people do think he’s an alien. I think they think he sits on a cloud ‘til he’s needed. But if he’s linked to some sort of income… money from licensing his likeness, for instance… Doesn’t that make him a target for legal action from somebody?”
He pulled her chair out for her, then dropped into her visitor’s chair. “See, Lois, that’s where you’re brilliant and sometimes don’t even know it,” he said very softly. “There are laws that limit that kind of thing. I did a little research into it – I thought it would be best not to involve Jimmy this time –“ When she nodded her agreement, he continued, “There’s not a lot of information out there, but there are laws in most states referred to as ‘charitable immunity’ laws that help protect charities from frivolous lawsuits.”
In a more normal voice, he continued, “Obviously, even charities have to follow employment and workplace safety practices and stuff like that. And an employee of a charity wouldn’t be exempt from prosecution for some sort of criminal activity. But that’s why Superman’s going through a lawyer - to make sure it’s all set up correctly.” He grinned. “And as far as income goes - I’m sure that with Mr. Stern Junior’s help, Superman will make sure that he personally owns nothing – except his name, which he licenses with the proviso that all proceeds are donated to the charity.”
She grinned back at him.
“Superman has a charity? Cool!” Jimmy exclaimed, walking by. He stopped, leaning against the side of Clark’s desk. “What’s it called?”
“Well…” Lois hesitated. “He doesn’t have one yet, but he’s working on setting one up, I heard. I gather the first step is to copyright his name.”
“Piece of cake,” Jimmy said.
She glanced at Clark, who smiled and shook his head. <No clue, Lois.>
“I’m glad you think so, Jimmy, but why?” <Maybe Jimmy knows how to hack into the country’s citizenship information.>
Clark grinned at her. <Actually, he probably does.>
Jimmy laughed. “It’ll be easy, you guys, because the state and federal governments are watching out for Superman. Like what happened with that guy who bought up every remotely Superman-related domain name. They busted him big-time.”
“Every what?”
“Domain name,” Jimmy repeated. “You know - website address.”
Clark frowned. “Why would he buy every possible… Oh. So he could turn around and sell them to someone representing Superman, but at a profit? <Is that even legal, Lois?>
<I don’t know. It shouldn’t be, anyway.> “Can someone who doesn’t own a name even do that, Jimmy? If it’s not their name, I mean,” Lois added. “Although, I guess if the name isn’t copyrighted…” She trailed off.
“Well, yeah, people have done that with, like, celebrity names,” Jimmy conceded. “But that’s not what this guy was doing.”
“Okay… So what happened with this guy?” Clark asked curiously.
“Yeah - how would being the owner of those domain thingies be illegal?” Lois added.
“Well, not illegal,” Jimmy began.
“But you said he was… busted,” Clark reminded him.
“Yeah - like I said, he bought ‘em up,” Jimmy explained, perching on the edge of the desk. “That’s not illegal, actually – but it’s… way unethical. See, if he owns certain domain names, then nobody else can use ‘em, right?”
They nodded.
“So then he can do anything he wants with ‘em – like… like… you know,” he glanced around self-consciously and lowered his voice. “Like a porn site.”
“What?” Clark didn’t just sound alarmed, he sounded angry.
Lois put a hand on Clark’s arm, and he asked more calmly, “He was going to link Superman’s name with –“
Jimmy nodded at Clark. “Yeah, CK, that was my reaction when I heard about the guy, too. I mean, Superman is good, and this guy was going to… Well, associate his good name with… with garbage.”
“But something happened to stop him?” Lois prompted. She felt Clark’s tense muscles relax under her hand, and she squeezed gently.
Jimmy laughed. “Oh, yeah. ICANN – that’s the, um… Internet Corporation for Assigned Names and Numbers – they’re the people in charge of this stuff… They forced the guy to give up every one of ‘em, and then the feds stepped in and shut down the sites he already had up and running. Then ICANN marked ‘em all – all the domain names - as off limits. Reserved, like .gov addresses are. Although, of course, it’s not really the same thing,” he added.
Lois glanced at Clark with a grin. Once Jimmy got going on computers and the Internet and all that stuff… <What’s a dotgov address?>
<I don’t know. Something to do with the Internet, apparently.> Clark grinned back. “What’s a dotgov, Jim?”
<It must stand for something… Department Of The… What’s something Internet-related that starts with a G, Clark?> She shot Clark an impish smile, then demanded, “Speak English, Jimmy.”
Clark’s cough sounded a lot like smothered laughter. <Umm…>
Jimmy was already explaining. “Sorry. It’s the top-level domain for government websites. The URLs – the website addresses,” he added. “They all end in a period – the dot – and G-O-V – gov, for government. Commercial sites use .com. Educational sites use .edu. And -”
Aha. “We get it, Jimmy,” Lois said hurriedly.
“Oh, okay. Well, anyway, so the feds- through ICANN - put a block on ‘em all. Only Superman owns the name - and *all* variations of it. Regardless of how it ends - .com, .edu, .gov, you name it…”
Lois sat up straighter. “Wait – Jimmy, when did this happen? How come we haven’t heard about it?” She glanced at Clark, who was nodding.
“Yeah – this is quite a story, Jim. Why haven’t we heard anything about it? When did this happen?”
“Uh, just a coupla’ days ago. But, well, it’s not… *news* news, you know?” Jimmy said. “I mean, it’s… well, it’s geek news. It was on the boards, but –“
“What boards?” Lois interrupted.
“Oh, you know –“ Jimmy waved a hand. “The electronic boards – on the Internet. Message boards. Where the geeks hang out. You know, where the –“ He hesitated, glanced around, and lowered his voice. “Where the hackers and crackers hang out, you guys.”
“But why isn’t this news? Why haven’t we heard about it?” Lois insisted. “Why hasn’t the word gone out? What’s so secret about it –“
“It only just showed up on the boards last night. And it’s not that it’s a secret, Lois,” Jimmy said earnestly. “I mean, whoever wants to know about it, that’s okay. It’s just that it’s… you know, technical stuff. The hows and the whys of the Internet don’t really interest people, you know? Regular people, I mean.”
“But it’s a great story, Jimmy. Right, Clark?” She looked at Clark again, who nodded.
“Yeah. It makes a great human interest story, Jim.”
“Well… you guys could tell it,” Jimmy said dubiously. “I mean, if you think Perry’d print it…” He paused, thinking. “I guess maybe it would be interesting if it’s about Superman. People like reading about Superman…”
“How is this ICANN place blocking all these potential domain name variations?” Lois asked briskly.
Jimmy blinked. “Oh – they’re all in a central databank – there’s whole teams of guys who program all possible variations in. If you try to register any of them, the system notifies you that the name’s unavailable.” He looked back and forth between them. “You guys really think people want to read this kind of stuff?”
“Of course they do, Jimmy,” Lois said. “It’s about Superman. People’d read a three page article on how he brushes his teeth if we printed it.” She ignored Clark’s snort of laughter.
“Well, you know, if his technique really works to prevent cavities,” Jimmy began seriously, and she was unable to suppress her own laughter.
“What?” Jimmy asked, and she waved a hand at Clark. <You tell him, partner.>
“Jimmy, what Lois means is that yes, what you’re telling us is, indeed, newsworthy news,” Clark said, chuckling.
“Oh… okay.” He glanced back and forth between them, then grinned. “No toothbrushing article, huh?”
Lois, still laughing, managed, “Nope. Sorry.”
“But we’ll let you know if we ever write it, Jim,” Clark added, still grinning.
“But anyway, seriously… can you get us to one of those sites, Jimmy?” Lois asked. “Now?” She gestured at her computer monitor, then shifted back from her desk as Jimmy straightened up and came around to her side.
“Sure,” he said, and within minutes, his fingers were flying over the keys. “Here… this is a good site, although it’s a bit technical… No, maybe…” He typed some more. “Here, this is where I get most of my…” he trailed off, reading.
Lois waited patiently – at least for a count of five – and then prompted him again. “Jimmy?”
“Huh? Oh – here, I found it.” He tapped the monitor’s screen as they leaned in closer. “What I told you…” He paused again, reading.
Lois opened her mouth to prompt him again, but he continued before she could say anything.
“Yeah, here it is…” He looked around at them, grinning. “*And*…” He paused dramatically. “There’s some new information. The ICAAN has created a whole *new* top level domain especially for him – for Superman - .sup. Cool, huh?”
It was cool.
“Wow.” Lois shot a grin at Clark. <Your very own top-level domain.>
“Yeah, Jim – very cool.” Clark gave her a barely perceptible wink. <Nah, it’s *Superman’s* very own top-level domain. I’m just a reporter.>
This time it was her turn to smother a laugh with a cough.
“So, anyway,” Jimmy continued, oblivious to their interplay, “It sounds to me like that whole copyright thing’s already done. So setting up his own charity oughta go nice and smooth for Superman. And that’s good, you know?” he added earnestly. “Because he’s one of the good guys.”
Lois smiled at Clark before turning to the young man. “Yeah Jimmy, I know.” She slipped her hand down Clark’s arm, and he turned his hand to catch hers when she reached his fingers.
“Jimmy!” Perry’s bellow rang out across the newsroom.
“Coming, Chief!” Jimmy called, straightening up. “Gotta go, guys. If you see the big guy, tell him…”
“Jimmy!”
“On it, Chief,” Jimmy called, beginning to move away from them. He tossed rapidly over his shoulder at them, “…tell him the city’s on his side, and… and to ignore any idiot who says any different!”
Lois glanced at Clark again with a soft smile. “We’ll tell him,” she said to Jimmy’s back as he broke into a jog.
---
To be continued
